The Story of Annie and Finnick
by LRoseC
Summary: The entire journey of Annie and Finnick, starting the day that Finnick is reaped for the 65th Hunger Games to the aftermath of the revolution. True to books. Happy (albeit bittersweet) ending that doesn't have to do with the son (entirely).
1. Chapter 1

_(It's a full novel, so the love story will develop more and more as it goes on :) I intended for it to be like a real book, not just a short blurb. I will get the next few chapters up as soon as possible too. Oh and sorry about any typos, I tried to proof read but I'm a little busy, but I promise I'll update the chapters with less errors asap. Thanks for reading and enjoy! Constructive feedback is always appreciated.)_

**Chapter 1**

**The Reaping**

I woke up on the floor of my dad's tiny fishing boat. The sun was exceptionally hot and the waves were dipping me up and down, like a cradle rocking. My skin felt sticky with salt and my hair was matted up on top of my head. Today was the reaping for the sixty-fifth hunger games, yet I didn't feel any different.

It's not going to be me, there's must be a thousand or so kids with their names in that jar, and some of them had to have taken out a tesserae. Yes, I had taken out three tesserae since I first put in my name at age twelve, but still. Other kids had to sacrifice more. We're a rich district, but that just means that our poor are even poorer by comparison. And even if I am chosen, someone might volunteer. But some bad rumors have been circulating about the arena of the games, so maybe not. Regardless, I'm Finnick Odair. I have the best luck in my entire class. My voice had already changed while all my friends still squawked like birds. I have good muscles, and I'm tall. I'm only fourteen but I can spear a fish with a trident just like any of the adults, maybe better. My dad used to be captain of his own vessel. People liked me.

There was just no possible way I was going to be reaped.

I pulled up the anchor and headed in for shore. Annie Cresta was standing there in an undershirt and shorts I saw her swim in a lot. I found Annie to be annoying; she was always correcting me in school and laughing at me when I missed a fish. She was small and had dark hair her sister always braided back. Her face was round and her eyes were wide and she had fat lips and pale freckles. My mother said she had a face like the moon but I didn't see it. How could a face look like the moon? I squinted to see what she was doing and saw a collection of little white seashells in a grass bowl at her feet. She was watching me row back in with her hand cupped over her forehead to block out the sun.

"Hi, Finnick," she called when I got closer. I waved back at first, but then snapped my hand back down and shoved it in my pocket. Unfortunetly rowing with one hand was harder then I thought, and accidentally dropped the paddle out into the water. Immediately the water whisked it away, out of reach from the boat.

"Annie! Look what you made me do!" I hollered, furious. I dove into the water and retrieved it easily enough, but getting back into the boat was clumsy work and my shorts didn't want to stay up properly when soaked with water. Annie was laughing it up on the beach, which just made me angrier. "It's not funny Annie, I have to be back home to get ready for the reaping, I can't go around _wasting_ my time going after a dumb paddle."

"Then don't drop it," Annie shrugged, no longer having to yell since I was close enough to shore. She gave me a self-righteous smile and plucked up her bowl of shells, "And besides, it's not like you can't swim."

Annie's older sister called her inside and she spun around, racing for the grass and plaster hut. Her sister was always being chased around by the boys in the village because she was so beautiful, even though she was already engaged to a successful fisherman from the neighboring village. Her hair was long and wavy and dark, like chocolate. And her eyes were bright blue—not green like Annie's—with long lashes framing them like wings. Maybe she was beautiful, and maybe she was raising Annie and her younger sister, but she always seemed intimidating to me.

I tied up the boat and then ran home, where my mother was waiting, standing akimbo and tapping her foot impatiently.

"What did I say not to do?"she asked in a stern voice. My spirits sank when I realized I was about to be in trouble.

"Um…you said…not to fall asleep in the boat."

"Right, and what did you do?"

"I…fell asleep on the boat," but I cut her off before she could start lecturing me, "But I put the anchor down this time and I covered myself with palm branches so I didn't burn, and—"

"Enough Finnick. Go out back and gut the fish for dinner, then I want you to take a bath and get on the clothes I left out for you. Understand?"

I nodded and moved by her, out the back door. Two large fish were strung up on the line, their multicolored scales shimmering in the sunlight. Whenever I got into trouble my mother made me gut and clean the fish, which she thought I hated. But honestly I didn't mind it; it made me feel like my dad. Of course I'd never let her know that though, because if she did, I would probably end up doing laundry instead.

Once that was all done, I went to the back room and dipped into the bathtub to clean the salt and fish off of me. I couldn't help but admire the way the light rippled on my skin with underwater. It was like a rope net made of lights.

Once scrubbed and polished, I pulled on the thin white tunic and light, gray pants my mother had laid out for me. I lost the argument about whether or not I had to wear sandals too, and had to stay still while she tried to brush my hair.

"I swear Finnick, one of these days I'm just going to cut this all off."

I shrugged and tried not to wince when she yanked the brush through. After a while she just gave up brushing it and used some product to keep it out of my face.

"There, now don't you look handsome."

I gave her a smile—mostly for her benefit—and then went to the table to eat a roll. But a sharp _rap rap rap_ made me jump up out of my seat.

"It's time to head for the square," a deep voice of a peacekeeper called in. My mother and I looked at each other for a brief moment with wide eyes, but then I relaxed.

"C'mon, let's go," I said, nonchalantly picking up my roll to go. It was salty and tinted green with seaweed, just the way it had always been. My mother followed after me. People had already filed into the street and were slowly making their way to the square.

"Is dad going to get in trouble for not being here?" I asked urgently as we joined to crowd on the street. The lovely—if somewhat wrinkled with sun exposure—woman scanned the crowd with pursed lips.

"He's probably going to head there straight from the docks."

I nod and try to make myself small so that I can stop bumping into people. There's a small commotion up in front of us, but the crowd parts around it so that the movement doesn't stop. When I get there I see it's Annie that's causing the scene. She's crying and hollering at her sister, whose eyes keep rolling. The fiancé is there too, looking awkward and uncomfortable. Annie's hair was all done up with a string of white seashells laced through it, but her face was red and blotchy with tears.

"I don't want to go with you," Annie said affirmatively, even though her voice kept catching.

"Annie, we really don't have time for this. You're not a child anymore, it's time to go. I promise, it's not going to be you."

"That's what everyone says and yet it's got to be someone every year, Pearl."

"There's hundreds, thousands of kids to choose from…"

"I had to take out tesserae though, and it's a rich district. I have more a chance than most of them anyway."

"Stop being dramatic."

I felt embarrassed for Annie, but I couldn't blame her. I had the same fit when it was my first year to go for the reaping. Most children do.

Eventually they realized they had reached an impasse, so Pearl's fiancé scooped Annie up and carried her the rest of the way to the square. My mother and I followed behind them and I made a face at her the moment we finally made eye contact, but more tears started falling and then I just felt like a jerk.

The square was completely transformed and packed with citizens. A large white stage with huge speakers and screens sat in the middle of it, infront of the massive tan Justice Building. Peacekeepers peppered the crowd, blinding us with their bleach-white uniforms. I started to go when my mother caught my arm.

"Promise me Finnick, you won't volunteer. I know you've been getting stronger and you want to prove yourself, but don't. Not this year at least. Alright?"

I nodded and winked, then left her to be filed into my section with the rest of the boys my age. This year people stared at me, even the older kids. I felt a mixture of pride and a mixture of self-consciousness. What the heck were they looking at like that anyway? I checked my face for any food or something, but got nothing.

"I've heard that the arena's going to have an acid river this year," a boy nearby me said in a hushed whisper. A shudder went down my spine and I tried to tune everybody out.

Garcia Tribell took the stand after the mayor and his family were properly seated. The Peacekeepers around the stage had the biggest guns, and made sure to cock them as soon as she tested the microphone. I watched the whole thing with an anxiety I hadn't started feeling until that moment. She welcomed us in that funny Capitol accent, then we watched the video about the history of the hunger games. Then, without further ado, we ladies and gentlemen would finally find out who would get the honors of going to the games this year. Ladies first, of course.

"Marina Salts," she read from the tiny blue slip of paper. A tall girl with steely green eyes and a set jaw stepped shakily out of the crowd and up the stage. She looked about sixteen and was doing a remarkable job at keeping her face void of emotion.

"Any volunteers?" Garcia asked with a knowing wink to the audience. I rolled my eyes and shifted my weight to my other foot, waiting for the long process to begin. But no one spoke up. Not even the eighteen year old girls with their toned muscles and ready stances. Not one person raised their hands. Unusual, but not unheard of. Especially with the girls.

"And now for the boys," the funny woman went on. It appeared as if her outfit were modeled after an angel fish, with a twist of a black fan in her hair. The Capitol folk never made any sense to me. It's hot here, why on earth would you dress in so many layers to stand on a hot stage under hot lights just to—

"Finnick Odair."

My stomach dropped. What did she say again? Where was I?

I didn't move; it felt like the ground had opened up beneath me. But it didn't take long for the crowd to part and peacekeepers to take my arms.

Wake up Finnick.

I yanked them away and walked up the stairs myself. It was the longest climb of my life, and when it was over I felt like I was standing on a cliff rather than a stage. Garcia shook my hand and then turned back to the audience. "Any volunteers from you young men out there?"

An older boy stepped out and raised his hand, ready to speak when a middle aged woman from the adults stepped out and slapped him on the back of the head. The boy lowered his hand and closed his mouth.

"Nevermind," he whispered, stepping back into the crowd with the scraps of his dignity. Garcia chuckled and made some joke about mothers always spoiling the fun.

"Well then, here you have it, the District Four contestants for the sixty-fifth hunger games! Give them a round of applause, folks."

The crowd slowly struck up an awkward applause, but all I wanted to do was cry. I found my mother in the fray, and beside her was my father. He seemed taller and broader than everyone else around him. It was hard to tell but I think my mother was crying and my father was giving me a reassuring nod. Only then did I take in my face on the screen. I looked weak and scared witless, unlike Marina. She shook my hand and mouthed something to me.

_Don't cry._

I straightened up and then flashed the camera's my best smile, which made the crowd clap harder. Always nice to see a kid embrace his fate instead of wallow in it, I guess. I was being edged off the stage before I could find anymore of my friends or family in the mix, but I kept waving until we were inside the Justice Building.

The lobby had a massive cylinder fish tank in the middle of it that casted a wavy blue light on all the walls. It contained hundreds of brightly colored types of coral and even brighter, flashier fish. I didn't recognize most of them, so I figured they had to be genetically altered. Leave it to the Capitol to make their fish look just like their citizens.

_Or was it the other way around?_

I was put into a sea-foam colored room with plush furniture and paintings of ships. The peacekeepers locked the front door, then allowed my mother and father through the second one to my left. Tears streaked down my mother's cheeks and my father's jaw was tightly clenched. I fell into their open arms and let them have their moment. If I was going to get anywhere in this game, I would have to learn to be strong. And I was.

"You could win," my father said seriously, meeting at my eye level.

"I know."

"So try," he said, "We'll be watching."

My mother was in a state, fixing my shirt and brushing my hair with her fingers.

"Mom, it's okay, I'll be back. It's not like we're from Twelve or something, I actually have a shot. I know how to survive, and how to fight. I can win."

She nodded weakly and then tucked me back into her arms until the peacekeepers opened the door again.

"Be strong, Finnick," my father said, kissing the top of my head before guiding my mother from the room. I didn't expect anyone else to visit. My friends would be too nervous to come into the building by themselves, and my aunts and uncles never really associated with me much. That's why I was surprised when the door opened again, and even more so when in popped a perfectly composed Annie.

I stared at her for a second, mostly in shock. Her hair was down now and any sign of her crying fit from before was gone.

"What, Annie? Come to tell me how to win or something?" I ask after the silence got too uncomfortable.

"No…here."

She walked up to me and then pulled the string of white shells out of her pocket. I watched and didn't even move when she wound it around my wrist and tied it with a double knot.

"Maybe it could be your token from your district?" she asked, hopefully. I shrugged and lowered my wrist, watching her intently.

"Sure, why not. Thanks."

She smiled lightly and stared out the window, her green eyes flashing in the light.

"Anything else?"

She looked back at me and shook her head, but then held up a finger as if she remembered something, "Remember not to eat anything if you don't know exactly what it is. We've died three years in a row now because of that."

"Right."

"And find water."

"Yeah."

"And…um…get sponsors. You can never underestimate the—"

"Jeez Annie, why don't you just go yourself if you know everything." Okay I didn't mean to snap like that. But I just said good-bye to my parents for what could be forever, and she was lecturing me? She's twelve. And a girl. Please.

"Sorry."

"No, I get it," Annie said, though clearly put out, "good luck then."

And with that she was gone, and so was the rest of District Four. Before I knew it, I was boarded onto the train and everything I knew and called home was sent spiraling behind me at a speed of two-hundred miles an hour. Everything except for a girl named Marina and a white seashell bracelet on my left wrist.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**Is It Worth Coming Back?**

I sat at the lunch table across from Mags, our mentor, and Garcia who looked like a stuffed plum today. Mags was an aging woman, but she was the best mentor out of all the victors so I was glad to have her. Marina sat next to me, matching me bite for bite on the chocolate-raspberry pavlova. I've never really starved in my life, but I never had anything so decadent and rich without any salt or fish. It was delicious.

It didn't take long for me to notice Garcia was staring, making my skin crawl uncomfortably. Her eye lashes looked like yellow spiders. Marina paid no attention and reached across the table—such poor manners—and picked up a tentacle of some sort and slurped it down slowly, pretending I wasn't watching. What was this, an attempt at humor? Garcia raised an eyebrow at her.

"Oh two can play at this game," I said in a seductive voice. I reached for an even longer tentacle, dipped in in some red sauce, and then slowly pulled it into my mouth. I never took my eyes off Marina, but I could tell everyone was transfixed on it. Then for an extra treat I opened my mouth to reveal I had tied it in a knot with my tongue. I started laughing at the gasp that escaped their lips, and so did Mags, but Marina just blushed.

"Well aren't you just the little seducer," Garcia said with an almost hungry growl in the back of her voice.

"There's nothing little about me," I answered back with a wink. It was her turn to blush.

"Alright, alright, enough," Marina said in a tight voice, waving her hand as if to ward off the conversation. We ate the rest of the meal in an awkward silence, though I was in danger of laughing the whole time. It appears I have some sort of magical power in my hands I hadn't known about.

Mags lectured us for a while on how to find water in all sorts of terrains and how to never underestimate even the smallest opponent. She herself was adverse to us joining with the Careers, but if we proved we had the proper skills in deception than she would allow it. After a long, brain melting talk and a book full of scribbled notes, I went to bed and crashed. The Capitol train gave us what they called water beds that wiggled around like waves. While I appreciated the gesture I thought it was overdoing it.

The next morning I emerged from my room to find Marina already dressed and working on strategies on a notepad, which she clutched to her chest as soon as I approached.

"Relax, I'm not going to look at your notes," I assured her, sitting down. Truth was I woke up today with a heavier heart than I had yesterday and just wanted some company. "Do you miss home?"

Marina scrutinized me for a moment then stood up and left the room. What did I do? Mags shuffled into the room shortly after and sat down next to me, patting my leg.

"It's a stressful situation, you understand," she said in a knowing voice.

"Of course I do." Duh, I'm here too.

"No Finnick, Marina was in love back home. With my grandson's friend actually, Ammon. You're a little young to really know what it's like, but it's heartbreaking to have so much hope for the future with someone to lose it with no say otherwise."

I shrugged, not bothering to picture it, why should I? "I guess."

"Now," Mags moved on, "I believe that you aren't going to have a hard time getting a few sponsors. But with such an incredibly handsome boy such as yourself, I'm thinking we can get an army of them. If you apply yourself. So I want you to focus on your interviewing skills tonight and being extra friendly to everyone you see at the Capitol when we arrive tomorrow. Chin up, stand proud. They are going to love you."

She left after that and I went back into my room. There was a large mirror on the far wall, so I walked up to it and stood.

Handsome? Yeah I guess. I wasn't dumb I knew I was attractive. But by how much?

I took off my shirt and stripped down to my shorts. I was tan, I had muscles. My hair was bronze but pretty messy. I did have good eyes. Sturdy legs.

But a lot of people back home did. I never saw myself as more attractive than the majority of boys around me. Was I?

At dinner Marina sat across from me. I decided she was pretty, with her bronze skin and blonde hair. It was kind of cute the way it was wavy and cut short to her shoulders. But she was not out of the ordinary, except for maybe her eyes which she refused to look at me with. "After you," I say with a polite gesture when Garcia reached for the same dish I did. Today's meal was breaded chicken on greens and noodles with peanut sauce. There was a few platters of colorful finger foods and fruits. After dessert we were served tea in delicate glasses with sugar cubes and honey in beautiful glass jars. Marina stood up and started pacing, her hands wringing the tea cup. I stood up and held the jar out to her.

"Sugar?" I offered, peering at her through my eyelashes. She paused to put one into her cup, so I smiled and popped one into my mouth. The way it crunched and melted in my mouth was inviggorating. Suddenly Marina moved back and looked completely put off.

"Shit."

I was slightly taken aback. "What? What did I do?" She started looking back and forth between me and the table.

"Oh come on," she said, her voice escalating, "Come _on!_ I see how this is going to be."

"What Marina, what's wrong?" Garcia asked in a high voice. Mags was just surveying the scene with a certain light in her eyes.

"It's _him!"_ she shouted, pointing an accusing finger at me. I backed up and put out my hands, palm up.

"What did I do?"

She was holding her control the best she could but she kept rocking back and forth between feet.

"I know _exactly _how this is going to go. Look at him! Are you looking?" she gestured at me with both hands as if no one at the table was paying attention. "We all know that it comes down to one person in that arena and the Capitol people choose their favorite to sponsor from each district. No pair gets the same treatment. And I'm up against _him?"_

"Marina try to calm down—"

"Mags, _look at him!_ He's like some Greek god or something! And he flirts like it's his language. Looks are all they care about in the Capitol, and I'm up against the freaking fourteen year-old king."

I couldn't help but be a little flattered, but also defensive.

"Marina you can still get sponsors, and it's not like that's what defines the games anyway," I offer, "And besides, you're a beautiful young woman I'm sure—"

"Just stop," she cut me off, now standing up straight and composed. I tried to find some more words but none came out, so I closed my mouth and watched her roll her eyes all the way back to her room.

"All I did was offer her some sugar," I mumbled, putting the jar back on the table. Garcia patted my hand and look at me sympathetically.

"But she's right, you know. The Capitol can never resist a pretty face. And you've got more than that and the charm to boot."

I pulled my hand away and tried to poke a little at the petit fours left for the tea, but I found my appetite was completely gone. "Excuse me," I murmured, then retreated to my room. My shower welcomed me with open arms. As I sat there in the hot water, I looked down at the string of shells Annie gave me before I left home. Though it was an odd gesture, I lifted it up to my nose and smelled it, picking up on the sweet, salty smell of the ocean. And all at once I missed home. I missed my mother and father, the fishing boat, running the docks with my friends, and yes, even Annie. I missed admiring her sister from afar too and wondering if Annie would ever look like her.

_I don't think so._

But it sure would be nice to get home and see it for myself.

And then it really hit me that I could die. Only one of us was going to get out of that arena, so why am I an exception to that rule? More than likely I'm a dead man walking.

No. There's a world back home that I need to get back to. I don't know what it was, but something was pulling me back there like a rip tide and I knew I had no choice. I was going to have to play this game with every fiber of my being if I wanted out, if I ever wanted to see home again.

And if Marina thought I could do it with my looks, with flirting, than I would. It doesn't really matter how I win anyway, as long as I do win.

Or does it?

What would my family and friends think if I betrayed my allies, kissed the hands of strangers to get money, brutally murdered children and came out proud? What would my own mother think? And Marina's family, when I left her for dead? Her boyfriend, Ammon. And would I even still be Finnick? And if I wasn't, if I came out different, than what was the point of coming out at all really?

I stepped out of the shower and let the fan dry me off before putting on a pair of comfortable, loose cotton pants and resided myself to sit and stare out the window. Mags knocked lightly but didn't wait for an invitation to come in. She sat down across from me and stayed quiet for a while.

"Finnick," she said finally, cutting through the silence.

"Yes?"

"Do you like to fish?"

I looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "Of course."

"And how do you fish?"

"What do you mean?"

She took my hands and studied my palms, rubbing a lightly wrinkled finger over my calluses. "What do you use? I'm guessing a trident?"

I was impressed, "That's my favorite, at least. I'm very good at it."

She took my face in her hands and looked at me like a mother would. "Close your eyes."

I did.

"I want you to picture a tide pool with twenty-three fish. The ocean's raging so there's no going out to cast the nets. All you have to give the peacekeepers what they want is in that pool. If you don't provide any fish, you would be executed. Would you kill them?"

"Mags…"

"You would. Would you rather be the fish or the fisherman?"

"Whichever one lives Mags, don't you think this is a little childish?"

"Finnick, this is no different than skewering fish in a tiny pool. Either they die, or you do. You need to think like that."

I opened my eyes and looked at her, aghast, "It _is _different Mags, these aren't fish they're people!"

She smiled sadly and shook her head, patting my cheek, "Not to the rest of the Panem. There's millions of people out there, but twenty-four of you had the misfortune to be stuck in these games. If you die, the rest of the world moves on. If you live, you can help to move it."

She stood and started to leave, but added a last thought, "If you kill them quickly, there's honor in that. It's the only mercy you can show in that arena, to kill someone quickly. Maybe even when they don't see it coming, so that their last thoughts are on something else rather than dying. Just a thought."

And with that, she left. I continued to watch the world whizzing by, trying not to think. I guess it all boils down to the fact that someone has to come out, so if it isn't me it's going to be someone else and there's really no point in being a martyr. If I could, I'd try to remain a decent human being through the whole thing.

"Marina?" I called quietly, knocking on the door to her room.

"Come in, Finnick."

I obeyed but stayed in the doorway. She was sitting up in her bed, staring at the ceiling fan. "What do you want?"

I cleared my throat and shifted awkwardly, "Look, I know we shouldn't be friends because of…well the current circumstances really. But for what it's worth, I think you have a shot. And if not me, I would want you to be the victor."

She didn't look away from the fan, but managed a polite smile. "You really are smooth aren't you? Even your voice is just saturated in sex." She paused and then looked at me with flat eyes, "Thank you."

I looked down at my wrist and looked at Annie's bracelet. I suppose she'd be angry at me for what I was about to do, but it had to be done.

"Do you have a token?"

She shook her head.

"Here, then." I placed the string of shells on the desk by the door and then left quietly. Part of me really wishes I hadn't, but if I was going to be playing it tough and using my looks for a tool, than I couldn't be running around wearing a bracelet. It would look better on Marina anyway, perhaps Annie would understand.

That night I took something from the servants that said it would help me sleep and stayed in bed until the morning light reflected off the stunning Capitol and into my window.

We had arrived.


	3. Chapter 3

_Here you go, the third chapter. It's got a lot in it so I tried to move it along pretty fast, but it's still nice and long. I may improve upon it later, but for now happy reading! _

**Chapter 3**

**The Rise of the Golden Boy**

"My goodness, aren't you stunning?" gasped one of my prep team members named Pippa. Her face was twisted up with pink and gold tattoos and her hair looked like it went through a wind tunnel and got stuck there. I had to admit I didn't like being stark naked in front of three people I just met, but I suppose it didn't matter to them since they saw new tributes naked every year. I just wish they would stop gawking.

First they tackled the "rat's nest" on top of my head. After lots of tugging and watering eyes, they managed to comb out years of knots and salt-water glue. Then after being waxed, bathed, buffed, oiled, and shined, they allowed my stylist to come in. It was a team actually, a boy named Glovis and a girl named Ophie. I managed a subtle attempt to hide the worst of my exposure from them with my hands, but as for the rest of it it was theirs to scrutinize. They circled me like vultures and then looked at each other with wide eyes.

"Excuse us a moment," Ophie said apologetically. I shrugged and continued to stand still so as not to expose what I was trying desperately to hide.

_Be flirty and charming Finnick._

"Take your time," I cooed, "I wouldn't want to rush you. I _never _rush." I threw a wink in Ophie's direction for effect, making them both giggle like children. Then they went to the back and chattered quickly back and forth to each other, too fast for me to keep up with. They came back with wide, excited grins and clasped their hands eagerly.

"Finnick darling, there's been a change in plans."

Next thing I knew I was boarding a chariot with nothing on but a nearly transparent pair of black sailor pants, boots, and a leather band tied across my forehead. The stylists wanted to put a belt across my chest to hold some sort of sword or trident, but they decided against it.

"We want to show off as much of those muscles as we can," Glovis assured me with a pat on my chest.

Marina showed up in a similar outfit, only her pants were tighter and they strapped a wide leather belt over her chest.

"I blame you for this," she growled under her breath when she reached the chariot.

"You look stunning," I said with a grin, knowing she'd hate loving it. I noticed her look me up and down for a second and then blush.

"What?"

"That's very…revealing."

I laughed and shifted my stance to cover myself up a little better. "You're isn't exactly lady-like itself." It's true. Those pants really hid nothing when it came right down to it.

She was jolted back for a second, completely taken by surprise. "Ouch!"

Ophie was behind her, grinning and tightening Marina's belt a little bit more. "Wouldn't want you falling out in front of everyone now, would we?"

As a final touch, they made Marina a hair piece with a starfish and coral, and gave me a sort of wreath crown made out of similar stuff. When all was said in done, we did look—though a little nuder than most—incredible and strong. When our chariot rolled out onto the platform, screams erupted. I smiled suavely and waved, blowing kisses to the occasional citizen who caught my eye. This was going to be a piece of cake.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o

Training would begin at nine, according to Garcia. Marina and I ate a hearty breakfast of éclairs, fruit smoothies, different kinds of breads, maple-seared ham, and other things I didn't know the name of. Marina started slowing down after her third helping, but seemed bent on matching my pace.

Nothing like a good challenge.

"More cream with that?" I offered when she took some fruit. At first her look was reproachful but then smoothed out and she did, in fact, take some of the cream.

"Now listen you two. I need you to let me know what your strengths are," Mags started, "Write them down in these cards and pass them to me."

"Oh, I have nothing to hide," Marina answered dismissively. I tried to think whether I did or didn't.

"Finnick?"

"Um, I guess not."

Marina scoffed and nearly spit out some of her food back onto her plate. Garcia looked revolted. "What?" She always made me feel like I had to be on the defense for everything I did.

"I just thought of a way you could win," she managed to get out with food still in her mouth, "If someone comes out to kill you, just strip naked and strike while they're still in shock."

I chuckled in appreciation but once again Garcia just looked at her disapprovingly. "That's no way for a lady to talk, Marina."

"Who said I'm a lady?"

And with that she dove into more food. I wondered what was going on with her today, but then again, she was going to be dead in two weeks tops—and if she wasn't, I was—so what did it matter?

Before the conversation went on, a man walked in with a head full of tiny gold braids and flashing blue eyes. I recognized him as the victor from the Fifty-second Hunger Games, Tristan Henneway.

"Hello, sorry I was late to this whole event. Mags, thank you for filling in. Hello Marina," he said cordially shaking her hand, "I'm your mentor. I think from this point on we're going to keep anything and everything about you a secret from, well, you Finnick."

The man threw me a toothy, apologetic grin. I found it hard not to like him, even if he was going to be training Marina how to kill me.

_Things like that just get funny when it gets too serious. _

And with that, Marina was gone from me. He took her into the soundproof room to our left and I didn't see her again until we were boarding the elevator for the Training Center. Mags and I agreed it would be better if I just worked on charming the competition and trying to learn some new skills. I'd wait to show off the talents I already knew I had when it was time for my private session with the gamemakers. On the ride down I could feel Marina shaking violently next to me, but when I looked at her, her face was perfectly composed. When the doors opened I threw on my best grin and walked in to the center as confidently as I could.

We joined the circle of other tributes and waited for the speaker to start. Around us were climbing bars, ropes, dyes, swords, clubs, wires, knives, and more. I took this time to scope out my competition. A lot of them were starved and sickly looking, especially from Districts eight, ten, eleven, and twelve. Both kids from district one were massive and strong, and so was the boy from two. The girl from seven—Sadie—seemed to hold herself very above all this nonsense and I could tell right there that she was a goner. Being arrogant is just as bad as a broken leg in the arena.

I was surprised by the ferocity of the kids from district nine. The girl—Rye—was small and beautiful but absolutely wild; she reminded me of a feral cat. During the Opening Ceremony she was dressed in a floor length gown of ropey fabric that looked like grain. After we had gotten inside, half the tributes were staring at me in what Garcia explained as envy and amazement, and the other half in anger. This girl was by far the most venomous. The boy—Goren—had wide shoulders and big arms and held himself like a jaguar, his upper bag slight curved over like he wanted to strike.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, let's begin," the instructor called. She told us the rules and how we couldn't fight each other, and warned us that training was our last chance to learn new skills of survival before going into the games. Marina separated from me as soon as possible and headed to some station about ropes.

_Odd, why would she go there when there's nothing new to learn?_

I went to a station to learn how to throw a spear. Being a fisherman I considered myself capable of handling one, but only when hitting fish, not people.

Mags' analogy sent chills running down my spine.

"Hold it like this," the instructor told me, "now bring your arm back. Yes, good. Like that. Now keep aiming, and throw."

I did and struck the target dummy in the shoulder. I got an approving nod and was shown more techniques and how to make a spear myself, though for the most part I knew how to do that. The people from District one and two had already clearly formed an alliance that was on the prowl for fresh meat. I had moved on to an edible foods station when they began to perform.

Brutus, from One, literally threw the wrestling instructor across the platform with his left arm. Viper—the girl from Two—ran through the obstacle course like it was nothing and hit every target in that station with a knife. They were good and I knew exactly what they were doing; trying to scare us all shitless.

Being from Four, I knew that I was already a contender for their little gang. But the more I watched them the more I saw that their skills, while impressive, were geared towards showing off and quite honestly when it came down to it their abilities to actually kill a real human being didn't seem plausible to me. A few of them glanced my way every once and a while, but I tried to avoid eye contact.

_How do they see me?_

Marina created a net that she threw up to the banisters and climbed, taking a thin rod she was holding and turning it into a hook.

"What is she doing?" I heard Rye hiss from the nearby station.

Dangling from the net by her feet, she attached her hook to the loose rope from the net and cast it out, catching the dummy at the spear station under the arm and yanking it from the ground. When it fell underneath her, she pulled a dagger out and landed it in its throat. The whole display happened in under a minute and off in a corner, but the whole room saw it. The Careers nodded in approval, and the feeble ones just went back to their stations with shaking hands.

Way to go, Marina.

The next two days I noticed her trying to get in with the Careers, showing off skills here and there, but it was evident she lacked to social skills to communicate with them. Whenever I saw her talking it seemed scripted and nervous; only her natural skills saved her. I, on the other hand, was getting attention whether I sought it out or not. The tributes were always staring and even the Careers approached me a few times. They never flat out asked me to join, but they hinted. It was flattering, however, I'd do better on my own.

Marina made an effort on the last day of training to make herself look useful and her plan to join the Careers seemed to be working. She was refusing to look at me, even when we were back in the flat. So that last day in training, with Mags's permission, I picked up a trident stepped up to the fighting station.

It felt so good to have that familiar weapon in my hand; my very own extension to my arm. Dummies popped up from all around me and I stabbed each one of them easily. One after another after another. Sometimes I'd knock them down with the side of the triple prong and other times I would just send it through the throat or the chest. By the time I was finished, the floor around me was covered in my sweat and pieces of plastic arms and torsos. The entire room had frozen to stare, which I noticed once I had caught my breath. Then, after throwing the Careers a wry grin, I swept out of the room with a sore arm and the most confidence I felt since the Reaping.

**~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o**

I sat on a crate next to Pearl and my little sister Echo, watching the screen left behind by the Capitol in the town square. We were knotting up a net for the fishing boats tomorrow, but I could barely focus on a thing. Finnick, it seemed, was taking the world by storm. For the three days that the Tributes were training, all the interviews and poles raved about his perfect face and rippling pectorals. Personally I thought his outfit in the Opening Ceremony was ridiculous, and couldn't help but laugh when I saw his mother's face of utter shock. The girl from my district only scored a six in the Private Session, but Finnick got a ten. There was a buzz going through the district that he would be the most memorable tribute of them all.

Tonight many people were gathered in the square to watch the final interviews before going into the arena. My leg was bouncing up and down nervously and I messed up almost every single one of my knots.

"You know Annie, he's probably going to die. You might want to start letting him go," Pearl said a-matter-of-factly. I consciously told myself to stop shaking my leg.

"I know."

"It wasn't like you guys were even friends anyway; I really don't even think he liked you. What are you so nervous about?"

I stopped tying the rope and glanced up at the screen, "I just don't want him to _die,_ that's all."

Caesar Flickerman was on the screen, announcing the exciting games and what a great show we were in store for. His hair was yellow with black streaks this time, which reminded me of a wasp. It was amazing how he could just look the same every year.

The first two districts were fearsome, as always, though a little stupider the usual batch that comes out. District three was nice enough but bland.

Then Marina took the stage in a beautiful crème-colored dress with lace trim that touched on the old outfits the sailors sometimes wore. They strapped a belt around her hips and braided ropes and shells into her hair. She seemed nice, but it all came off a little nervous and rehearsed. There were rumors going around though that she was rather impressive in the training.

And then it was Finnick's time to take the stage and the audience in the capitol, even here at home, simply erupted. He came out in an all-black suit that was simply striking on him and his hair actually styled for once. They had cut it and worked in some product, which just made him irresistible to the public. Now that any of the grimy unkemptness was gone, all anyone could manage to do was be blinded by his lopsided, almost impish smile and dazzled by those flashing sea-green eyes. Some girls in the audience on the screen were holding up signs with his name on it and fainting when he blew kisses in their direction.

Could nobody else see through it besides me?

"So Finnick, you have quite the fan base going on out there. All around you are being called the Golden Boy. What's this all like for you? A shock?"

Finnick threw him an award winning smile and sat in such a way that the light bounced off his chest and arms perfectly.

"Absolutely. I never could imagine so many beautiful women in one amazing place."

The female audience cheered and hollered and screamed because they, yes they, were those beautiful women.

Caesar laughed heartily and then waved them down, though it took a while after Finnick blew a kiss in their direction. You would never know he was fourteen.

"Yes, now I have to say Finnick you've got quite the reputation. Some people out there are saying you're the handsomest tribute ever to walk onto our stage. How do you respond to that?"

Finnick bit his lip and laced his hands together, seeming pensive. "I don't know Caesar, how does one respond to that? I mean, I guess I'm flattered. Though I could never imagine how out of all the people out there that they would single _me_ out."

An attempt at humbleness, cute. I rolled my eyes and glanced around to find at least a dozen young adolescent girls in the square staring up at the screen dewy eyed and swooning at his words.

What was _happening_ to people?

Next question; "Tell us, do you have a girlfriend back home?"

This time the whole female population of Panem was silent, waiting on bated breath.

Finnick laughed good naturedly and waved his hand, "Actually I've never had a girlfriend."

Cries of disbelief rang forth, even from Caesar. "Surely that's not true."

"It is," Finnick persisted, "I'm only fourteen, and most of the girls I've had crushes on have just been a little too old for me. You know how it is Caesar, I've never even had enough nerve to ask any girl out."

How charming, how adorable and honest of him. Surely he's just the most wonderful thing we've all ever seen.

After the roar had died down, Caesar got to business. "Now, I know from just looking at you that you've got some abilities that are going to give you an edge out there in that arena. Give us a hint Finnick, what's your weapon? Besides your smile, of course."

More cheering. Finnick finally managed to say, "The trident I guess. I've been using one ever since I was a baby. It's my best weapon, for sure."

"Fasinating. And if there's one in the Cornucopia, do you think you have what it takes to get it out?"

"Ah, I think that's for me to know and you to find out," he answered with a wink. Time was running out and so far all I saw was a self-assured ass.

"Finnick, last question," Caesar said with a low drop in his voice, "what's inspiring you to win out there? What or who are you fighting for?"

Finnick's face fell a little and for a moment I saw the real boy underneath the makeup and the lights. Finally.

"Umm…" he clasped and unclasped his hands, "My family. I have to win to go home, and not going home's not an option. I don't really know how else to explain it."

And with that he was shaking Caesar's hand, the buzzer went off and he was gone with the screams of the crowd. All around he was referred to as the treasure of the games and how positively captivating he was. People were forgetting he could be dead by noon tomorrow.

The only thing I could do was tie knots and hope that Finnick would stay alive, and if he did, that he wouldn't come out a stranger. Even if he didn't seem to want to be around me, he was still my friend. I was going to root for Finnick Odair, not the Golden Boy.


	4. Chapter 4

_Here's chapter four. It's a little short but I felt it was competely necessary to put in to it's own chapter. I recommend listening to Brooke Waggoner's Fresh Pair of Eyes before or during reading. It's what I did when I wrote it and the mood competely fits._

**4**

**Comfort**

It was the night before we left for the arena. I was retreating to the flat with Marina shaking behind me and Garcia in the lead, chattering excitedly about what a success we were in the interview and how she's never had so many sponsors throw themselves at her feet. I could barely hear a word of it, I was too busy focusing on my feet and taking one step at a time.

We reached the flat and a decadent dinner was waiting for us on the table. Marina excused herself to get changed and I followed Mags to the table.

"Nervous for tomorrow?" she asked kindly, patting my hand. Tristan sat next to her and waved out his napkin, seeming completely unaffected by what was going on.

"Of course he is Mags," he seemed to laugh. I watched him put two helpings of potatoes on his plate and smother them in butter, "Have you learned any of their names, boy?"

The question shook me a little, "The Tributes' names?"

"Yeah, them."

I thought back. I knew most of them by face and body, but not by name. Whenever it was time to eat I sat by silently near to weaker kids so I wouldn't have to socialize. I knew Viper…and Brutus…and Sadie. I couldn't think of anyone else off the top of my head. Oh, and Rye and Goren.

_How could I forget them?_

"Some of them," I admitted, bowing my head in misery. This wasn't fun anymore. I no longer had to flirt or be charming, but now all I wanted to do was hide.

Tristan roughed my shoulder sympathetically, "That's rough. You should never learn their names, it just makes in harder."

Marina joined us after some time, looking pale and sick. When she sat I could feel her trembling even though we weren't touching. Tristan smiled at her encouragingly and put some buttered bread on her plate.

"No thanks," she whispered, "I don't think I can eat anything."

"Try," he demanded.

Her little shakes turned to an all out tremble and she ended up burying her face in her hands. Tristan pursed his lips and sat back in his chair with defeat. Mags stood and circled to table to where Marina sat, taking her gently by the arm.

"Come on, honey," she cooed, guiding Marina by the arm to her room. I followed, entranced but lingered only as far as the doorway. Mags sat down on the bed with her back propped up on the headboard, pulling Marina into her arms so she was lying against her. Tears were streaming down the young girl's face and she was clutching Mag's arm desperately. Mags rested her chin on the top of her head and stroked her hair comfortingly, like a grandmother would do to help a child sleep. I couldn't help but remember my own mother doing the same thing to me when I was younger and sick, and part of me wanted so badly for her to be here. Or my father to tell me how strong I was and give me fighting advice and remind me over and over I was his son and how Odairs don't quit.

Mags moved so her cheek was now resting on Marina's head and she quietly began singing a lullaby I recognized from back home.

_Out on the sea my love_

_There's a gray ship of shining glass_

_A white dove is sitting, singing_

_On the crystal mass_

_And out on the sea my love_

_The ship is sailing fast_

_Back home to the shore_

_Home my love at last._

_But 'til that day _

_The dove it comes it sails alone_

_Remembering the shore and land_

_How the breaking waves shone_

_It comes to sing its song_

_To tell us of its tale_

_The ship of glass is sailing fast_

_The wind is in its sail_

_So go to sleep and do not fear _

_For it glides on silver lining_

_The dove is coming for the shore_

_The ship it will be shining._

Marina had quieted but was still clinging to Mags arm, so the woman continued to hum and stroke her hair as I left, feeling a little number than before. Tristan had finished eating and was drinking something strong from a crystal cup by the fireplace. I turned to a servant in a red uniform and asked, "What's he drinking?"

She looked at me with wide eyes, seeming shocked that I asked her a question. Then I remembered, _Avox._

"Never mind," I dismissed her with an apologetic wave. An avox, how sad.

_But where would you rather be, in her shoes or yours?_

Mine I guess, at least I have a chance at freedom. An avox is chained for the rest of their lives.

Tristan stood and walked straight up to me, the drink only slightly affecting his walking.

"Good luck in the games tomorrow kid," he said, grabbing my shoulder for assurance and probably balance, "I think you really have a shot at this. The people out there love you more than any tribute I've ever seen."

I shrugged, not able to meet his eyes, "Because of my looks, there's no other reason."

Tristan looked thoughtful and shook his head, "I wouldn't say that. There's something else about you that draws them in."

"Like what?"

"I don't know," he shrugged, stumbling back from me, "Some kind of determination in you. You just have this air like there's a lot more to you than most." He started laughing and I couldn't help but worry for his sanity. "But how would I know?" he chuckled, taking another drink, "I've killed five children in my life, how can you trust me? I don't see anything." He was laughing again and sat down on the couch, facing the fire. "Did you know I was colorblind before I won the games and they fixed it? Ever since I was a kid. All that blood looked black to me."

I didn't want to listen anymore and retreated to my room, wondering if I could turn out like him. He was so friendly and almost happy-go-lucky in the light when I'd seen him with Marina. But he wasn't that now. If I got out, would I have to drink my problems away at night? I would have to help train the new tributes, that's for sure. Could I even tolerate that? Watching new kids cycle out year after year and training them to kill?

But there was Mags. She was still a decent human being, better than most actually, and at one point in life she had won the games. Maybe I could turn out like her.

Sleep came in waves, but I was never able to fully fall into it. My sheets were twisted around my body to the point I could barely move. I slammed my face into the pillow over and over again, but surprisingly enough that didn't help sleep come any faster. Eventually my body decided it was pointless and I wandered out into the living room again. Tristan was gone and there wasn't a sound save for the low hum of the fire. I sat in front of the couch and wrapped a soft blue blanket around my shoulders, trying to stop myself from shaking.

"You should be sleeping Finnick."

Mags sat down on the couch behind me with a cup of hot chocolate in each hand. She handed one off to me which I accepted. Even though I couldn't taste it, the warmth felt good.

"I want to go home, Mags."

She sighed and I heard her put down her mug. "I know honey."

She gently started playing with my hair, brushing it out with her creased fingers. The effect was immediate and my whole body seemed to start to melt.

"Maybe I will," I whispered, fighting the sleepiness.

"Maybe you will."

Next thing I knew I was waking up in my own bed from a deep and completely dreamless sleep.

_Mags must have slipped something in that hot chocolate._

My prep team came bursting in to scrub and buff me once more. I emerged afterwards and squinted at the light flooding in through the windows. What an ironically sunny day. Marina was already dressed and ready, waiting outside the elevator door. Tristan was instructing her in a low voice on something, no signs of his drunken night before. Marina glanced at me quickly and then back to Tristan. Even after being bathed and polished, I could still see the evidence of her rough night in her eyes.

"Okay, we have to say good-bye to you now," Garcia announced on behalf of herself and the mentors. I looked at Mags with terror and she smiled back.

"Stay alive, and be strong. Find water. Don't overestimate yourself. We'll be watching," she told me in a tight hug. I wrapped my arms around her and was afraid to let go. Tristan gave Marina similar advice and a brief embrace, shook my hand and departed into the next room. Mags kissed Marina's forehead, waved good-bye, and then followed Tristan into the next room.

Before anything else was said we were whisked away into separate train cars and brought to the rooms underneath the arena. A doctor in a lab coat injected a tracking device into my arm, which quite honestly gave me the creeps. I was then ushered into my room and trapped when the door locked shut behind me. My stylists were waiting there with weird smiles, no doubt excited to get me out of my clothes.

"Do your worst," I told them, holding out my arms. I was stripped then dressed in gray cargo pants, sturdy but lightweight black boots, a long sleeve dark gray shirt, and a belt wrought with pegs and hoops, though nothing hung on them.

"Those are climbing boots, expect some steep, rocky terrain," Ophie observed.

I nodded and thanked them, when a peacekeeper came in and forced me into the clear cylinder. It closed behind me and I broke out in a sweat.

_Alright Finnick, from this point out you're confident. Strong. Alluring. Determined. Head in the game._

The platform rose and I stopped trying to run. And then a rush of air came over me and I was blinded light.


	5. Chapter 5

_You guys are totally inspiring me to keep writing! Enjoy! Warning though, it gets a little graphic..._

**5**

**Let the Games Begin**

Fifteen…

_It looks like a rainforest._

Fourteen…

_With two cliffs. I guess I need some rope._

Thirteen…

_I can probably get water inside the forest._

Twelve…

_But who knows what's in there._

Eleven…

_I guess I don't have a choice._

Ten…

_Okay, this is it. Where's Marina? There she is. She has the bracelet! Good. _

Nine…

_I don't like the way that Brutus is looking at me._

Eight...

_Focus Finnick._

Seven…

_Breathe._

Six…

_Wait, what's in the Cornucopia?_

Five…

_Knives and ropes and packs._

Four…

_Is there a trident?_

Three…

_I don't see one._

Two…

_Shit!_

One…

_Shit shit shit!_

The horn went off and I was in a full sprint, though I had no idea where I was going. To the Cornucopia, I guess. I was running as fast as my legs would carry me, looking around at the blur of other bodies doing the same. My feet slammed into something and I fell face first into the ground. I looked and saw a large backpack with ropes and clips and a rolled up blanket. I also saw I was in the middle of the supplies. And the others were coming in fast.

_Finnick! Move!_

I stumbled up and slung the pack over my shoulders. There was no food anywhere that I could see, so I went deeper towards the back of the Cornucopia. Where were the weapons?

I found a belt with knives and picks so I took that up as well. Then something smashed into the side of my head and I was thrown to the ground. The world didn't look right and I could swear I saw stars. It was dark, why was it dark?

Because Brutus was standing over me, blocking out the sun.

"I've had enough of you, Prettyboy," he growled, lifting a heavy hammer over his head.

_MOVE!_

I crawled away just as the hammer came down, the sound resonating through my head. He may be strong, but Brutus seemed to move in slow motion with that heavy hammer. But then again I could feel myself moving in slow motion too and I think my head was bleeding. People were fighting all around us, and most of the weapons were gone. There wasn't a lot to begin with. I rolled to the side to avoid the strike of the hammer again and then pulled out one of the climbing picks. Adrenaline was pulsing through my veins so hard I thought my ear drums might burst with the rhythm of it. Brutus screamed and lost the hammer, leaping at me with his full body. I found myself pinned against the inner wall of the Cornucopia with Brutus's fists raining down on me. It wasn't until I tasted blood that my mind started working again and I drove the pick into his leg.

"Aaagh!" he roared, stumbling back. I kept the pick in my hand and jumped up, trying not to trip on anything else, but my vision was so blurry. But I broke away from the scraps of supplies and was running. Running, running, running. But Brutus was right on my heels, even with his limp. I guess he was faster than I anticipated. In a last ditch effort, I swung the pick around blindly behind me and caught his cheek. I think it ripped open, but I didn't wait to find out. I was running deep into the rainforest as fast as I could, the pounding of my heart overpowering my ability to hear if anyone was pursuing me. I broke through a thicket of trees and ran head on into another body.

"Oh…um…" the person panicked, trying to wriggle out from underneath me. I tried to focus on their face and recognized the starving boy from District twelve. He looked positively terrified.

_Kill him Finnick, it's best you do it now and put him out of his misery. _

But I couldn't. I got to my feet and just kept racing as deep as I could into the jungle. My heart was so damn loud. My head hurt and so did the rest of me for that matter. But I didn't stop until I hit a meadow. The bright whiteness of the flowers was so sudden and so shocking I couldn't help but stop. It was like they were glowing. I stumbled around through them and got the odd sensation that the earth was moving around under my feet. The flowers beneath me were growing red spots, so I ran from them. But everywhere I went the flowers erupted with red so deep it looked like blood. Blood? I thought blood was black?

And then the world melted in on itself and I fell into nothing.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o

He wasn't doing as well as I thought he was going to. I sat in the square with my family to watch the beginning of the games amongst the crowd, expecting Finnick to run in and dominate the competition with his rope and trident skills, but he didn't. Instead he got hit on the head with a hammer, beat up, and ran off into the jungle without killing anyone. I personally didn't mind that part, but if he was going to get the sponsors and win, he was going to have to kill. It was just the way the games were played.

We were all surprised at the lack of tridents in the mix of weapons at the beginning. I thought for sure they would put one in there for him, but as discussed between the head gamemaker and Caesar, the weapons and supplies are usually selected far in advance and they do not make special exceptions for any one tribute. Which I thought was a complete lie. They always manipulate the games in the way that they want them to be, planned or not. My sister couldn't help but taunt me a little.

"He doesn't look good, Annie. I think he's going to be dead in a few days."

I rolled my eyes, "Why do you have to do that? He's my friend."

Pearl imitated me rolling my eyes and laughed, "Does he know that?"

_Be nice Annie. Remember mom always told you to be nice no matter what._

"I think he'll be fine. He's just sleeping."

Truth is I was worried. They didn't show us the footage live because they were too busy broadcasting the Career clan killing five children at the Cornucopia's mouth and then going in hunt of more. And a girl from six that stumbled into some weeds that came alive and strangled her to death. Finnick was shown later, staggering dizzily through the trees and into a clearing where he spun around and mumbled something about flowers and passed out. When it was clear that nothing exciting was going to be happening with him for a while, they moved back to the Careers and revealed that very little food was provided in the supplies and most of it would have to come from the forest or from sponsors. Brutus was the vision of gore with his bleeding leg and ragged, torn cheek which hung open awkwardly, but he marched on with the rest of the Careers. Surprisingly enough, both kids from District nine were allowed to join the usual pack. The girl from twelve, both of district ten, the boy from eleven, and Sadie—from Seven—were all dead in the initial bloodbath.

I decided I'd seen enough on the big screen and went to go comb the beach for shells. The sky was mostly cloudy but the sunset was tinting it orange and a grayish purple that I found to be soothing. The beach had lots of good sea-glass to offer today, so I laced a make-shift grass bowl together and began to collect. Maybe I could put it in a vase to decorate the hut a little bit more…

I was alone today because my friends were all with their families, watching the games. I suppose I should be too, if just for the sake of making sure Finnick was still alive. But I didn't want to. Because what if he wasn't?

After about two hours I started back for home. I went inside and put the bowl of glass on the little wooden table in the middle of the room. I heard a young man's voice and my sister giggle from outside the hut and I wonder if she has friends over.

Pearl stumbled in to the hut and looked surprised to see me, "Oh, Annie, what are you doing home?"

"I got you some sea glass. Where's Echo?"

Pearl bit her lower lip and swayed a little, giggling even though nothing was funny.

"She went to a friend's house for the night. They're going to stay up and watch the games I guess."

I started to say something when a boy walked in the hut, reaching out for Pearl. He had long blonde hair and no shirt, but I didn't recognize him. He buried his face in Pearl's neck but she gently pushed him away and nodded in my direction. He seemed to suddenly despise my presence.

"Hi," I whispered with a quick wave. He smiled wryly back, but didn't say anything.

"Annie, why don't you go somewhere else?" Pearl said in a tone that meant she wasn't actually asking.

"Am I going to have to sleep outside?" I whined. She nodded and pointed her finger at the door. "And don't let me catch you snooping."

I scooped up my straw mat and left, setting up underneath the window. I guess it could be worse, it could be raining or cold. But it was actually a good temperature tonight and the fresh air kept me calm. I could hear the overlapping voices of several televisions playing the games in different huts. No mention of Finnick from what I could get. I laid down on the mat and tried to get some sleep.

But I didn't get to sleep for very long. I had a nightmare. Finnick's mother running through the village screaming, "He's dead, he's dead, he's dead!" Pearl sat outside the hut, tying a net, and laughing. Peacekeepers arresting Finnick's mother and father. I had to watch. The one peacekeeper pushed me over and I fell on the sea glass. Then my hands were bleeding and I was in Finnick's clearing, stumbling around dripping blood everywhere.

"Where's the flowers?" I shouted, not knowing why.

Then I woke up and found it was still dark. All lights inside my hut were off but I didn't dare look inside because Pearl said not to. Instead I crept across the street to peer in the window of our neighbor, where their television was still lit up even though the family inside was snoring heavily.

_Finnick!_

The cameras were on him because he was waking up. The poor thing looked sick and confused by where he was. Blood was caked all over his face and clothes. He groggily sat up and rubbed his eyes, assessing his body for damages. Most of it seemed to by some badly bruised knees, a sore shoulder, and a pounded face. The gash left behind my Brutus's hammer was red and swollen and still looked to be bleeding a little. Finnick moaned and covered his face in his hands.

_What are you thinking, Fin? You're in so much danger there._

He reached for his pack and started to rummage through it. There was a long, blue rope. Some clasps and two hooks. Some dried fruit and meat, though not enough to sustain him for very long. A blanket. A filled water bottle. Some sunglasses which I recognized to be the kind that let one see at night. And some empty containers. And _that_ was a pack from the middle of the Cornucopia? I guess supplies weren't going to be the focus this year. He had two picks, three knives, and a pair of fingerless gloves from the belt he picked up.

He seemed disappointed with his findings and packed most of them back up except for the food and water. Then, much to the excitement of half the young girl's generation, he removed his shirt and began tearing it up into strips with his strong, perfectly sculpted arms. He tied two of them over his head injury and put the rest in his pack. Then he took to drinking the water and eating the food.

_Preserve it Fin, don't be stupid…_

But he ate all of it with a guilty look on his face the whole time. Just like a boy to not be able to control his appetite. And from the looks of it most of his water was gone too.

But the screen flashed over to the two girls from eleven and three were fighting over a small backpack filled with food, and neither of them had any weapons so it was all hand-on-hand combat. Girl from eleven hit three with a rock and then choked her out. I couldn't decide which was weirder, the scene I just witnessed or how numb I was to it.

When Finnick hadn't appeared on screen for a full ten minutes, I got bored and went back to my mat.

I didn't wake up until the morning sun barely rising and Pearl's fiancé, Stephen, arrived with a large fresh catch slung over his shoulder.

"Morning Annie," he greeted me, with a weird tone in his voice, "why are you sleeping outside?"

At first I didn't know what to say. It wasn't really my place to talk about Pearl and her actions.

"Pearl wanted some privacy," is all I said. Stephen's eyebrows creased and he went inside without knocking. Rude.

I followed nervously after, to find my sister leaning against a table in her night dress, looking at Stephen with surprise. Her friend was nowhere to be seen.

"Why was Annie sleeping outside?" Stephen asked accusingly, placing his catch down on the table. Pearl's brows went up and she batted her eyelashes at him, as if taken aback.

"I don't know, she wanted to I guess."

Stephen shook his head, "No, she said you wanted some privacy."

She sighed and walked up to him, placing her hands gently on his chest looking down at her feet, "We had a fight. About Echo. It's no big deal I just didn't want to keep arguing so I sent her outside to leave me alone."

Stephen looked suspicious at first, but one reassuring smile from Pearl made his face melt and he kissed her lightly on the cheek.

"Okay, sorry. You know how I get… when…well half the men in this village look at you the way they do."

Pearl smiled lightly and patted his head.

"You owe me now for being mean. Could you go gut that fish and fry it up for breakfast? I have to clean up here a bit then get Echo, and then we can eat together."

Stephen nodded and picked up the catch, disappearing out the back door. I watched him go until Pearl's hand connected with my face.

"_What are you doing?"_ she hissed angrily at me. Tears sprung into my eyes and I held my cheek, wondering what I did wrong.

"What do you mean?"

"_Are you trying to get me into trouble with him or something?" _she whispered louder, her whole face turning red. I didn't answer, so she pushed me down and grabbed my hair. She was pulling it back so hard I thought she might tear it out. I stared up into her eyes, waiting for her to say something.

"_We cannot afford to lose Stephen, do you understand me? I don't care what I do, what you see, or what you hear. You are never, __**ever**__, going to rat me out to him again."_

"Okay, _okay,"_ I cried, trying to loosen her grip on my hair.

"Ever!" she shouted, throwing me into table. I pulled my knees up to my chest and started crying; sometimes she could be so mean.

"Go outside and wash the dishes. Then I want you to take the laundry down from the line. Don't let me catch you not working today," she said sternly before leaving out the front door. I immediately got up and started collecting the plates and cups from the countertop to bring down to the water. Yes, she could be cruel. But she was my family; she took control after our parents died. I _did_ owe her, I'd never stop owing her. So I switched on the television, hoping to hear some good news about Finnick, and got to work.

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I was screwed. I woke up not in a meadow but a pile of moss, covered in my own blood, and to make things worse I ate all my food and lost my shirt. Well the shirt thing was okay, I guess that could get me some more sponsors, but as for the food and even the rest of the supplies it appeared to me I was completely and utterly screwed.

I was also in a lot of pain. My face was swollen from the blows I'd received from Brutus, and my head was in a state. I managed to move to a more hidden position under some bushes, but that was about all I felt fit to do.

_You're going to have to man up, Finnick._

After changing my bandages and taking a short nap, I decided I had to find some water. So off I went, trudging through the unfamiliar jungle. I wished I could remember some of those edible plants the instructor taught me about, but they had all looked the same to me. There was no way I was going to eat anything without absolutely knowing what it was.

I must have walked for an hour, but still no body of water. The air was damp so I knew it had to be around somewhere, but where?

"There you are," a deep, ragged voice hissed. I spun around just in time to see Brutus lunge at me. I darted out of the way and pulled out a knife from my belt, holding it at the ready.

_Why me?_

I felt sick when looking at him, with his cheek torn completely open. It was horrible, and even more so because I did it to him.

"You're going to die for this, Prettyboy," he gasped, pointing to his face. I tried to move but he grabbed my wrists and twisted them until I cried out, thinking they'd break. My foot shot out from underneath and kicked him between the legs. Once free I reached for the knife I dropped, but didn't get there. Brutus threw me, but I was up in a second, blocking his blows with my arms. It was like the time my father's vessel got attacked by another fishing boat, only this time I got to fight.

I rolled into the bushes where I just was and finally retrieved my knife, my lifeline. Brutus roared and charged after me with a spear which he hit me across the chest with, but if it cut me or not I didn't know because I sprung forward and buried the knife deep into his chest cavity. The life went out of his eyes and his face dropped and for a moment I was afraid he'd freeze like that. But then he fell back into the moss, dead. The firing of the canon assured me of that.

_I've killed someone. I'm a murderer._

My pulse was still beating, so I pulled my knife from him and wiped it on the grass before putting it back in my belt. I felt very different, somehow numb and cold.

_Fish in a pool; either they die or I do._

"Bravo," a cold, invisible voice cooed. The rest of the Careers slowly emerged from the thickets, the girl from One in the lead. She was clapping slowly.

I definitely didn't have the energy to take them all on at once. Not at that moment. My eyes searched for a way out, an escape, but nowhere seemed plausible.

"What do you want?" I asked, lifting my chin. No way was I going to show weakness now.

"Relax," the girl purred, "if we wanted you dead, you would be."

I can't believe I never took notice of her before. I think her name was Celeste. And she was more wildly beautiful than all the other female tributes I'd seen, even Rye. Her eyes were neon blue and her hair was long and red and wildly wavy. She had beautiful bee-stung lips and long eyelashes that fluttered when she talked.

"Then my question still applies," I insisted, the corner of my mouth turning up into a grin.

"There's not a lot of food in the supplies," the boy from two said in a deep, base voice, "and you're the best bet with sponsors."

"You _are_ from District four," Celeste reminded me, "You belong with us."

I scoffed and picked up my pack, "It doesn't really seem I have a choice, does it?" They all shook their heads and I shrugged. I wasn't going to waste an opportunity to live if it presented itself to me.

"Fine."

"Good," Celeste whispered with a sly smile. Was she trying to seduce me? "Let's go hunting."

We moved through the jungle with weapons out, looking for victims. As we walked I realized I was bleeding from my chest through a long wound left by Brutus's spear. I wrapped the longer bandages around it and tried to look like I wasn't in pain. I was strong.

It didn't take long to find the boy from Twelve, trying to cook something in a leaf over a fire. When we emerged, his whole spirit shut down and all that was left was fear. The poor, pathetic kid didn't even try to run. Rye lingered back, a poisonous look in her eyes. Viper and District Two boy—Hector—grabbed the boy by the arms and held him up. I think his bicep was the size of Hector's wrist.

"Please," he begged pitifully, "Please don't."

His eyes met mine and a wave of guilt washed over me. But there was nothing I could do, was there?

Celeste suddenly was at my side and leaned in so she was whispering into my neck, giving me goosebumps; "You know how _I _get sponsors, Finnyboy?" she asked. I shook my head and tried to keep myself composed.

"I entertain them. And two can play at your game."

With that she walked backwards, away from me. Then she pulled off her shirt and for a second I think my mouth might have fallen open with surprise. Her undershirt was tight and much sexier than the gray number she was currently wadding up into a ball.

"What are you doing, Celeste?" Rye asked critically. She gave no answer, but rather shoved the wadded shirt into the captured boy's mouth so that his screams of protest were muffled into near silence. I was growing increasingly uncomfortable with what was going on. Hector and Viper were laughing, thoroughly seeming to enjoy the show.

"You see Finny," Celeste began, coyly pulling out a cruel looking knife, "the public wants a pretty body, but even more than that, they want blood. They want to see the cat play with its food. They want torment. And if you play the game, you get the bonus. Do you understand?"

I didn't say anything, but I felt sick. What was she going to do?

She turned to the boy and kissed him passionately on the mouth. He looked surprised, then scared, then almost relaxed. I mean, he was going to die anyway so I guess he decided to enjoy it. Then she sank the knife into his side.

But he didn't die, no, I wish he had. He was yelling but the shirt muffled the sound almost completely. I could just tell by the way the veins protruded from his neck and the redness in his face. Celeste held his face in her hands, looking at him patronizingly.

"Oh no, shhh," she whispered, looking deep into his eyes, "Shhh."

She brushed his hair away from his forehead, as if it mattered. He was looking at her in a combination of fear, pain, and hatred. Then she kissed him again, but the knife went in simultaneously with her lips. The boy winced, doubled over, and then the canon fire told us he was dead.

Viper and Hector let go of his arms and smiled viciously at the dead boy at their feet. What pleasure were they getting out of this that I wasn't seeing? I just wanted to vomit.

Not four seconds later, a silver parachute descended from the sky and into Celeste's hands. She opened it eagerly to find a box full of bread and cheese and an apple. She plucked out the apple and took a bite, licking the juice from her lips and shooting me a smoldering wink.

"_That's_ how you get sponsors."

The rest of them split the bounty, but I didn't. I didn't want the bread they sent her. For all I knew it was made with blood in it.

We left so that the ship could collect the body and went searching for the other tributes. Then the Capitol's anthem played and the fallen tributes appeared in the sky. Twelve dead today.

"Both sets from Eight and Five are alive," Rye said in a business-like tone. I didn't like her, she made me uneasy.

"Can't we stop for now?" I asked, defeated, "Half of us are dead already, and it's not going to do anyone a favor by over-exhausting ourselves."

They looked at each other and shrugged, seeming to agree.

"Fine."

We made a camp in the middle of the forest, not bothering to be subtle. No one would dare attack us. I licked my dry lips and looked around to see if there was water anywhere. But no one had anything.

"Get us some water, Finnick," Celeste demanded, tossing her empty bottle aside in frustration.

"How am I to do that?"

Rye wrapped her arm around my head and held a knife up to my exposed jugular.

"Alright sponsors, you want him to live to see another day then you'd better send us some water. Or I'll carve his pretty little face up so no measure of surgery can fix it."

I really didn't think threatening the sponsors was the most tactful way to go about this, but for the sake of my life I hoped it would work. And it did, surprisingly enough. Three parachutes came sailing down on our camp with jugs of water that we divided up evenly and drank our fill.

"Thank you, Finny."

I wish they wouldn't call me that.

"It's time for bed, I'll be keeping first watch," Celeste announced, standing up. She came up behind me and slid off my belt with the knives and picks attached to it.

"You won't be needing this," she explained, giving me a knowing look. I sighed and curled up near the fire. Maybe I should be concerned about them killing me when my eyes were closed, but it appeared I was good for something. I was good for blackmail.

I also knew I had to get out of there.


	6. Chapter 6

_Thanks again for the support! I'm going on vacation so I'll have lots of time to write this week, but maybe not so much to post because I don't know if I'll have internet access. Whatever happens, I should be having a lot of chapters coming out soon, whether I post them all a week from now or in couple day intervals. Thanks for reading and please comment! Give me your opinions!_

**6**

**Blood and Poison**

The Careers this year were stupid. Who tries to threaten the sponsors? The Capitol didn't tolerate manipulation of the rules, so now all we had to do was sit back and see in what way the gamemakers would react. Hopefully Fin wouldn't get caught up in the mess.

They were all sleeping except for that Celeste girl who was sitting against a tree. Finnick looked the roughest of all of them, with his shifty bandages and bruised face, but he was still handsome. And now he was starting to look like the old Finnick because his hair was matting up again. It was midday here, but the arena was just hitting morning. Celeste went to wake up Finnick and the girl named Rye to take the next watch.

The screen went to a boy from District five standing cautiously in front of a girl from District eight. He had sandy blonde hair and hers was silky and black.

"I'm Carson," the boy said.

"Armure."

The boy lowered his homemade spear and held out his hand, "Allies?"

At first I didn't realize why, but then I noticed the pack filled with roots and leaves and realized that the girl knew the secret to the food in the jungle. And from the looks of it, the boy had the power she lacked.

"Allies. For a little while. I'll teach you some food to eat but you have to kill the boy from six, he's been stalking me ever since the Cornucopia."

"Deal," the boy agreed, shaking her hand. I still couldn't wrap my head around how kids could bring themselves to trust each other in the arena. How could they know it wasn't a trap?

The two set up camp and she began showing him how he could tell what was good to eat and what wasn't. It was clear to me that this wasn't a regular rainforest because all the fruits that would typically be there like bananas and coconuts were all gone. Perhaps the gamemakers made it that way so that the tributes would starve?

"This is ginger, and these are cashews. You can eat both of them but careful because ginger is strong. These leaves…"

The screen moved to Marina, tying some knots in a rope under the cover of some large leaves. There was no way of telling exactly where she was or what state she was in. Well enough to tie knots, I guess.

A few of Pearl's friends showed up, laughing at some joke I didn't hear. Pearl greeted them with her charming smile.

"Hey guys, come in. We can watch the games on my screen."

I moved out of their way and darted outside. Peacekeepers were walking around the street, making sure that everyone was getting in their required viewing of the games. I almost ran in to one.

"What are you doing, young lady?" he asked in a dangerous voice.

"I was just…um…going to my friend's house," I stuttered, trying to look anywhere but his eyes, "to watch the Hunger Games."

"Then get moving," he growled, shoving me with his gun. I looked around and saw Finnick's house and ran inside.

"Oh, hello Annie," his mother greeted me in a surprised voice.

"The peacekeepers wanted me off the streets. Can I stay here and watch the games with you?"

The woman nodded and held out a rope net to me.

"I'd be glad for the company. Help me with this while we watch?"

I nodded and slipped my fingers easily into the knotted loops and got to work, staring eagerly at the projection on her wall. I guess the father was out fishing.

The screen flashed to Finnick and Rye, sitting guard over the camp. I saw his mother tense and grip the net tightly.

"We're going to need some more water before the end of the day tomorrow," Rye said in a tight voice. Finnick sighed and kicked the dirt under his foot.

"What do you want me to do about it?"

"You don't have to do anything," she answered bitterly, "All I have to do is threaten to cut you to ribbons and—"

She didn't get to finish; a jaguar leapt from the trees and sunk its teeth into her throat. Finnick looked down at her with wide eyes, before standing up and grabbing his backpack. The others woke with a start at the feral growl, but it was too late. The canon fired to signal Rye was dead, and Fin was already taking off deep into the jungle. Celeste screamed in anger and threw a pack against a tree, making the contents explode.

"Oh my," Mrs. Odair whispered. They showed a shot of Finnick running, but something was wrong. It looked like he was bleeding from his wounds again.

"He'll be okay," I assured her, "that jaguar was just to punish that girl for blackmailing the sponsors. They aren't going to hurt Finnick."

"They already have," she responded miserably. I grimaced and watched as the Careers fought off and killed the jaguar with their weapons. The alliance from Five and Eight came back on the screen. Carson was off to the side, scooping a brightly colored frog into a pouch while Armure cooked roots over a fire. They were camped right against the base of the cliffs.

"Okay Armure, you keep cooking I'm going to go set a trap for that boy, okay?"

Armure looked up from her cooking, squinting. Even though it was day, the cover of the trees still made it seem dark.

"What are you doing?"

"Looking for more nuts," he answered, nonchalantly. He was able to slip the frog pouch into his pocket, unseen. Then he took to the jungle to 'set more traps'.

"What was that frog?" I asked, mesmerized by its brilliant colors.

"A poison dart frog, possibly even engineered to be more potent by the Capitol. If any of those toxins get into her system, she's a goner."

A few more people came up on the screen. The boy from Three was trying to climb the cliff with a pick and a poorly tied rope. The knot was one we learned as children and not even that well done. His arms and hands were shaking and his forehead was in a full sweat. I suppose he was looking to hide out until more people died.

But he slipped and we watched as his body was tossed around between ledges until he hit the bottom, dead. A canon fired and they showed quick clips of all the living contestants jerking their heads up to the sky, wondering who it was that died. They lingered on the Careers.

"Do you think that was Prettyboy?" Viper asked maliciously, tearing the hide off the dead wild cat. No one answered, but Celeste bent down and picked up his belt with the knives.

"He doesn't have any weapons, except that stupid knife we let him keep for the watch. It's possible. But we won't know until tonight, when that pretty little face of his lights up the sky."

O~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

Someone was dead, though I had no idea who. Maybe it was me?

After watching Rye's esophagus be torn from her throat, I ran for the cliffs. Her blood was in my hair and stained into my clothes. But I'm bleeding too, and the exertion wasn't helping. I had only one knife, the fingerless gloves, the pack, the rope and clips, and the blanket. No water, no food, no weapons I knew how to use. Sure, I could gut a fish with a knife, but there was no way I was going to gut anyone here. And I saw no fish.

A boy emerged from the trees just as I collapsed in exhaustion. My vision was so blurry I had no idea who he was, just that he was there.

_How small is this damn jungle that I can't get anywhere without running in to another damn person?_

He seemed shocked to see me at first, but then held out his spear, ready to kill me. What could I do? I was weak and basically unarmed. My instincts made me reach for my rope. I did, and tied a loop as fast as I could.

_Why wasn't he killing me?_

I swung the loop at him and caught his neck, yanking him down to the ground. He struggled out of it, but I grabbed his ankle and punched him across the face. His fingers sunk into my cheeks and it hurt so much with all my bruises I had to let him go. He staggered back into the trees, taking my knife and his spear with him.

_Shit._

I touched my forehead and my fingers came away wet with blood, and my chest wasn't doing well either. Pain was throbbing through my body so intensely; I had to allow myself a moment of weakness. I squeezed my eyes shut and my fists tight and let all my emotions be conveyed on my face. I didn't care if I looked weak; I needed the endorphins a few tears would give me. My jaw was clenched so tight I was afraid I would break my teeth.

_Help. Somebody I need help. I'm losing too much blood…_

Then it started to rain. Okay, so it wasn't all bad. Besides it being freezing, I was able to open my mouth and catch some of it on my tongue. I reached into my bag and extracted some of those useless containers and left them open to collect the rain water.

And just as I was about to succumb to sleep, a silver parachute descended from the sky. I struggled to keep my eyes open long enough to see what was inside. Some of my district's bread, and a container of cream I assume was meant for my wounds.

_Wow, generous._

I applied some to my forehead first, stopping myself from screaming when it made contact. It burned intensely for five seconds, but then felt cool and tingly and wonderful. I eagerly applied it to my chest and even my bruises, just incase it could do something. What did I know about medicine?

The moss below me seemed a perfect bed, so I let sleep wash over me like the waves back home.

O~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

I watched as the screen panned away from sleeping Finnick to Carson returning to his camp. His lips were bleeding and he was covered in dirt and scratches and his neck was red from Fin's rope. He was panting and sporting his new knife. Armure was waiting apprehensively in the camp, no doubt wondering who was approaching. Carson took some of the blood from his lip and smudged the blade with it, and then bursts through the trees. Armure jumped but relaxed as soon as she saw who it was.

"Is he dead?"

"Yes, didn't you hear that canon?"

He held up the blood-stained knife as proof and Armure's face melted into a serene smile.

"He's a liar!" I exclaimed, pointing at the screen, "The boy who fell down the cliff died, not the District Six boy!"

"It's a clever little plot," Mrs. Odair observed with a nod, "Oh, and look. There's the boy from Six, he's not even close to them. He must have given up the hunt when he saw she made an ally."

Armure was sitting on a log, pulling some nuts and weird little plants off the fire. "I cooked some dinner, if you want it. How's your lip? Did he put up much of a fight?"

Carson shrugged casually, "Nothing I couldn't handle, obviously. Thank you."

He accepted the food and took a bite, nodding his approval.

"Delicious as dirt," he joked. Armure smiled and poked her food with her finger in disinterest. The camera's zoomed in on Carson, a shadow falling over his face.

"I have to thank you for helping me learn all these new plants, it's been a great help."

Armure smiled, "It was an even exchange."

Carson noticed she wasn't eating, "What's wrong? You're not hungry?"

"I am," she answered, "but I just have no appetite for this stuff. It looks disgusting."

The cameras stayed on Carson as he reached down to the leaf pile. Under the cover of the shadows, he took out the frog carefully and wrapped it in the leaves. Then he stuffed a piece of the nut on either side so it looked perfectly normal, appetizing even.

"Try this, it makes it a lot more…palatable."

Armure took the food from him without a second thought and popped it in her mouth. The second she bit down her face twisted up and her hands slapped over her mouth.

"Eughhh!" she screamed, disgusted. I cringed back in my seat and tried not to think about what live frogs must taste like when you bite them. Carson sprang across their food and clamped his hand over her mouth and the other pinching her nose. She was starting up at him in panic, disbelief, and betrayal. Her face was turning red. When he released her, her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she started convulsing like she was being electrocuted. The muscles in her neck were straining to breath and saliva started pouring from her mouth.

_Please die, please die, please just die._

Her face darkened to a sickening purple shade and she clutched her hands over her heart. Carson grimaced and then turned away, busying himself with mindless work until it was over. Then all at once her body relaxed and lay there, motionlessly. The canon fired once again, and all the survivors were shown looking around, wondering what had happened.

"That was terrible," I remarked, trying to slow my heart. Finnick's mother just nodded grimly and tied a few more knots in the net.

"It was a quicker death then what's been awarded to some."

Carson collected the supplies around the camp, kissed Armure's forehead, and took off into the wild again.

"Run along home now Annie," Mrs. Odair said with a sigh, "it's getting late."

I thanked her for letting me stay and then took off into the streets, hiding in the shadows from the peacekeepers as a leapt house to house.

_I wonder if I could survive the games, by hiding in the shadows and then leaping on my enemies?_


	7. Chapter 7

_Sorry that last chapter was so short, I spent a good chunk of my eighteen hour drive writing this chapter. So as always, enjoy!_

**Chapter 7**

**Fire Melts Gold**

I woke as the anthem began to play and the Capitol's symbol lit up the sky. My wounds felt so much better, it was like a miracle. I was no longer bleeding and the only pain I felt was the stiffness in my back from laying so awkwardly. I watched to see who died today.

Rye, yes of course. I remember. Her eyes looked hateful even in her hologram. The boy from three. The girl from eight. And that was all for today. Thirteen dead, ten more to go before a victor could be crowned. My heart pulsed with anxiety and I realized how exposed I was here, in the open…sleeping. It was getting to be nightfall and I knew the Careers would come looking for me now that they knew I wasn't dead. And there were other kids out there too, waiting to kill me at the most opportune time.

_It's the Sixty-fifth Hunger Games. You're in the Hunger Games. More than half of you are dead already. You need to start thinking of a plan._

What day was it? Day four? Day five? Hard to keep track. I was hungry, that's for sure. And thirsty. I grabbed the containers I left out that got filled with rainwater. The bad weather had stopped for the most part, but everything was damp and humid now. I didn't like the feeling of being soaked through my skin, but I suppose I would have to deal with it.

_Where's this river of acid and fire of Hell? The worst this arena's done to me is a cold shower._

I didn't know what I planned to do with it, but I started making a net out of the long blades of grass around me. It was easy work compared to some other things I've done. Before long I had a full net capable of catching animals or maybe even a human. Too bad I didn't have any weapon to kill anyone with. Just for fun, and for the sponsors, I set a snare and concealed the net under the foliage. It wasn't hard because the grass just blended right in to the rest of the terrain. Then, I stood off to the side and threw a small rock so that it triggered my trap and it snapped up, capturing the rock easily.

_Perfect._

I reset the snare and then hid myself and my pack in a bush, allowing myself to fall back asleep.

Morning. The forest glowed with the sun above the cover. I stretched and yawned, glad for a full night of rest. My stomach reminded me I was neglecting it, so I ate the bread I was sent from the Capitol. Stale, but delicious. I checked the snare, but nothing had triggered it. I poked the catch with a stick to make sure it was working, and sure enough the net snapped up to trap the stick.

"Impressive," an invisible voice hissed. I tensed and looked around, trying to find the source of the voice. My heart was thudding hard against my chest. Who was it? Viper? Hector? Celeste?

The boy from five stepped out, holding a pack full of food and a spear in his hand. I was ready to run, but he lowered his spear and held out his hands.

"Truce. I'm here to offer an alliance."

I scoffed and didn't relax my position. Everything about this screamed trap.

"What kind of an alliance? I can kill well enough on my own."

The boy shrugged, "Food. I know the roots and nuts and fruits that edible in this jungle, and which are not. One wrong move and you're…" he slid his finger across his throat. I guess that meant dead.

But I still didn't like the look of this boy. His ashy blonde hair was hanging in strings over his forehead and his eyes were like slits on his face. His mouth was just as thin, as if instead of a mouth he had an open cut. Snake-like, almost.

"Prove it."

The boy laughed, and shook his head. "You're alone and unarmed, what makes you think you have negotiating powers here?"

_Damn he's right._

_No, wait. Think Finnick._

"I do. For one thing, that's not the only snare I set up; you make one false move you are…as you say…" I slide my finger across my throat to mimic him, "And you must want something from me, or else you wouldn't be trying to form an alliance in the first place."

Okay, so the snares were a bluff, but hopefully he wouldn't call it. The boy's mouth stretched up into a sardonic grin.

_All he needs is a forked tongue and he's a python. _

"Very insightful, Finnick. I'm Carson, by the way. What I want is to learn how to set snares like that. And maybe some of the support you get from the sponsors. I already said I'd teach you about the edible plants in the forest here, and help you kill the Careers, if that's what you wish."

"I said prove it, if you don't mind."

He looked to his side, pulled up a plant, and took a bite right out of the root.

"See?"

I appraised him, looking for whatever it was he was hiding. But I saw nothing and I was going to need some food, the sponsors wouldn't be able to feed me this entire time.

"Fine, but you're going to walk at my side this whole time, and give me a weapon."

Carson nodded and handed over his spear, pulling out a small dagger from his pack.

"Okay, so first thing first, you have to get a net, like this one," I told him, holding up my grass net, "I'm going to leave that part up to you. Then you tie this knot like this…"

I showed him how to do the most complicated snare I could—one that wasn't even that good—until it was about midday.

"I wonder what the others are doing right now?" Carson wondered out loud, looking around them. It's true, the Careers made no appearance nor did anyone else from what I could see and hear. I felt like a sitting duck, waiting to be shot.

"I don't know. Odd. Show me some plants now?" I asked once he had finally managed to get his snare to catch. He showed me a kind of mushroom I could eat, along with two kinds of roots, and some weird nuts and fruits. At home there was a tropical rainforest if you were willing to travel that far, but they were loaded with mangos, plantains, coconuts, bananas, and all sorts of delicious edible things. Here, I got roots and bark.

"Be careful of these," Carson said, pointing to a brightly colored frog, "they're _very_ poisonous."

I nodded and marveled as the little critter hopped away into the unknown. The boy and I decided to move locations so we wouldn't attract others. We walked until we hit the most marvelous thing I've ever seen. A circular clearing with sunlight dazzling upon the twisted vines that draped down from the tops of the trees. Colorful birds flew lazily above, singing songs to one another.

"What is this?" I asked, amazed. It was so beautiful.

"Looks dangerous," Carson responded, shuffling around anxiously. His spear was raised as if to ward off an invisible predator. There was a path of rocks leading to the center, where a pie was sitting. I could smell it all the way from where I was standing, a berry pie…still hot.

_Oh, yes._

"Finnick…I don't think we should go for it. It's clearly a trap."

I tapped the rock with my foot, and when nothing happened, stepped on it. "I think we have to walk on the rocks. Don't step off."

It was easy for me, I'd spent a good chunk of my childhood hopping on rocks to avoid falling in the water. Carson stood at the edge, refusing to come any further. More pie for me, I guess.

I reached the middle, and a food item never seemed so good to me in my entire life. I was about to dig in when I realized that this was the _Hunger_ Games, and a pie just didn't sit in the middle of the games just for the sake of it. What was I thinking? It was probably poisoned.

I picked it up, trying to see what was going on with it.

"Ahh! Finnick! Help!"

At first I thought he was yelling because the ground was beginning to tremble. But then I spun around and saw the vines coming to life, picking him up by the neck. He was kicking and flailing but more vines would latch on. I ran forward, careful only to step on the rocks.

_What am I doing? Why am I helping him? I should let him die._

But as I was thinking that, I was cutting him free. I had to take the dagger from his hand and use it to saw through their thick arms. Carson dropped free and clutched his throat, gasping for air. Then I noticed another knife on the ground.

_My_ knife.

"You!" I shouted. But I stepped off the rock and was suddenly being whipped into the air. Vines encircled my legs and torso. Carson took one look at me, then grabbed my knife from the ground and took off as fast as he could while I struggled to get free.

"You filthy snake!" I choked after him, trying to keep the vines away from my neck. Number one rule, always have an arm up in front of your throat so they can't wrap all the way around.

The dagger, I still had the dagger. My arms were being restrained but I was able to free my hand and cut some of the vines loose. I had the strange sensation of being turned upside-down. More hacking, cutting, struggling, and then I was sent crashing to the ground head-first. My pack was still on my shoulders, but my dagger was lost in the vines. The pie was smashed, and little bugs were crawling out of it. Good thing I didn't eat it.

The ground was still rumbling though, and for the life of me I had no idea what was going on. An earthquake, maybe?

I ran away from the clearing, trying to escape the heavy vibrations, but they only seemed to be getting worse. It got to the point I couldn't walk straight anymore.

"What is going on?" I screamed, not caring who heard. Let them come!

Then I heard it, an explosion of some sort. I looked up to the sky and the 'cliff' at the west side of the arena was projectile-vomiting something bright red.

_Oh no._

Lava. That one wasn't a cliff, it was a volcano. And I was cleverly running straight for it.

I spun around on my heels and dashed as fast as my legs would take me. I heard a scream and then a canon fire, but I kept running. No way was I going to die in this arena by being burned to death by molten rock. No way.

Another canon. Another kid was dead.

I ran until I was in the thick of the jungle, but the temperature was rising and I could hear the approach of the lava slide from the distance behind me. So I allowed myself a moment's breath and then took off again. But while I was running I tore the frame from my backpack and bent it into a fish-hook like shape.

It would have been a difficult task for anyone outside of District four, but for us, bending weird metal objects into hooks was second nature. I realized my only safety was to climb up, so I got prepared while I ran. I pulled on the gloves even though I was sweaty and hot as it was. Then fastened my rope to my belt and tied the other end to the hook. My backpack sagged uncomfortably without it, but it didn't matter. I would worry about it when I was safe.

The knot on my belt was secure, there was no doubt of that. I couldn't help but make a side note of gratitude towards my District for all those years of knot tying, rope work, and hooks.

I reached the cliff on the other side and threw the hook up. It caught something, but when I pulled it came back down.

I tried again and still nothing. I could hear the trees breaking behind me and knew if I didn't get it this time, I was a goner. The Capitol's little Golden Boy would be melted down to nothing.

_I wonder if they'd make some jewelry out of my remains or just sell me to the highest bidder?_

So all I needed was this one good toss, and finally, it caught. The hook had lodged itself into a thick, secure crevice. Without any further delay I hoisted myself up and used the rocks as handles and foot holds, making sure to wind up the rope on my belt so I wouldn't fall all the way down if I lost my grip.

Luckily it seemed this cliff was more or less a steep mountain, because there was a wide ledge that I reached easily enough and took a much-needed break. Not that I was high up, I could see the damage done on the arena by the lava. Half the forest was taken out, replaced by piping red and black rock. Any trees that remained in the lava slide were burning.

_Hey look, it's Hell._

No acid river but I think lava may be a little bit worse. I peaked around to make sure no one was on my ledge with me, and when I was satisfied I tied myself up with the rope and then secured it to a jagged piece of the mountain. That way, even if I rolled over in my sleep, I wouldn't fall.

The smell in the arena was ashy and rank with sulfur; it made me want to gag. But it was late, and I had a long day. So rather than address the fact I was clueless and weaponless and foodless, I drank the rest of my water decided to sleep.

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

That was an exciting day. I watched Finnick escape a lava slide, and watched the girl from District Eleven and the boy from District Eight fall victim to it. At least it was a quick death, though there wasn't even enough of their incinerated bodies for the aircraft to pick up afterwards. I watched in wonder as the Careers managed to run to the safe side of the forest. Carson managed to find refuge there as well, but the girl from his district ended up climbing the cliff, as did the boys from Seven and Six. Miraculously they all were so spread apart, they didn't encounter one another on the climb.

The ash and smoke caused those who remained in the forest to pass out, and the ones on the cliff were coughing violently. But Finnick was alive. A lull fell over the games to allow the tributes to recover, and a rain began to pour. I think there was even some sleet in the mix. The shower was rapidly cooling the rock off, making it hiss and steam. But even the freezing rain wouldn't wake the tributes through that night and even into the morning.

"Annie, come here I want to do your hair," Pearl said from the table. She had grown bored of the games and didn't pay them much mind. I complied and sat still as she brushed out the knots and braided it back. It always reminded me of our mother before she died; it was possibly the nicest thing Pearl did for me.

Once she was done, I ran outside and almost crashed into the circle of Finnick's closest friends. Crest, Brye, Dawn, and Martin. They were all talking excitedly about Fin's new fame and how well he was doing in the games. I waved hello and they all smiled back. I was a little too shy to try and join in with them, but I think they liked me. Well enough, anyway.

I had noticed that Finnick wasn't wearing the shells I gave him. I don't know why he said he would but then didn't…it seemed a bit like a slap in the face. But then again I had no idea why he wasn't wearing them; for all I knew they wouldn't let him. But I guess I just thought, being my friend, he would wear them.

_Oh well. Maybe Pearl is right._

I went down to the beach with my grass bowl and started collecting shells again. If I dug a little I could find the beautiful ones with pinks, greens, and blues in them. Each new shell I added to the bowl sang a different note when it clinked against the other shells. I even found an unbroken sand-dollar, which was a rare treat. Once it was all collected I sat in the sand, staring at the bowl. I don't know why but I started crying. And I couldn't stop once I started, even though it was completely irrational. After a while, Echo wandered out onto the beach with her bouncy chestnut ringlets and big sea-green eyes.

"What's wrong, Annie?" she asked in a tiny voice. I sighed and wiped my eyes, trying to cover up the evidence.

"Nothing, Echo, I'm fine."

She plopped down next to me and plunged her hand in the bowl of shells, pulling out a pretty pink and orange one.

"Liar."

She was such a sweet little kid, but I had no answer for her.

"I don't know what's wrong, sorry. Just a girl thing," I said with a laugh. Echo rolled her eyes dramatically and fell back into the sand.

"You make no sense sometimes," she said dreamily. The sun was delightfully warm and there was a little breeze; so beautiful and yet sort of lonely. Several fishing boats dotted the horizon, making the whole thing very picturesque. I shrugged and plucked a long blade of grass to string the shells onto.

Echo noticed and then got to work on her own string. Hers was rather amateur, but I'm sure it would get better in time. I used to go to the beach and make crowns and necklaces for our mother all the time, now Echo and I would come here and make them for Pearl. The Exquisite Pearl Cresta, who took over for the family at age seventeen, stole the hearts of all the young men, and won the hand of Stephen Glass—the handsome, successful, kind fisherman from the neighboring village. For the wedding, Echo and I were planning to string hundreds of strings of shells and drape them all over the ceremony spot. It was going to be beautiful.

The sun was setting and Pearl came out to the beach, holding Stephen's hand. She was wearing a light, breezy dress of sea-foam green. So lovely.

"Are those for me?" she asked with a charming smile. We nodded and she bent down so we could put one around her neck and one on her head like a crown.

"You're Majesty," Stephen declared cordially, making a show of kissing her hand. She batted her eyelashes and pretended to swoon, returning the favor with a light kiss on the cheek. Sometimes she really seemed happy with Stephen, like our parents were back before the accident. I watched them with dreamy interest; how the sun bounced off Pearl's long wavy hair and illuminated her blue eyes like they were made of glass; how Stephen's face would light up whenever she smiled at him. I wanted, more than anything, to look like her. To laugh like her. Because she was a spitting image of our mother, and what in the world could be more beautiful?

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

"_You're not coming home."_

_I stared hopelessly at my father and mother, my hands out pleadingly. "Help me," I begged._

_They seemed a hundred feet tall and covered in shadows. They shook their heads and scowled._

"_Please?"_

"_We don't want you home, Finnick," my mother said flatly. A wave hit me from behind and sent me whirling into breathless darkness. I tried to swim out of the current, but it was too strong. I stopped resisting and smashed up against something solid and hard. I was out of the water, stranded on a massive bolder. The storm was raging all around me and the sky was black with clouds, streaked with lightning. Waves were slamming against my back, rolling in over and over again. I clung to the rock for dear life, trying to blink the sea water from my eyes. I looked up and saw Annie standing on top the rock, completely steadfast and calm. A string of seashells was wound around her wrist._

_I reached up my hand to her, though she wasn't looking at me. She was staring ahead, over the waves into something I couldn't see. I needed her to see my hand, to help me, because I was slipping._

"_Annie—"_

_Too late. The current pulled me back under, robbing me of all light and air. And just when I thought it was over, I was washed up on shore. The string of shells had wound itself around my wrist and was pulling me up the beach. It was so cold…_

I woke up with icy rain stinging my eyes. For one heart-stopping moment I forgot where I was and rolled off the ledge.

Lucky I was so good at knots.

Seeing the ground hundreds of feet below me caused my entire stomach to drop to my feet and a sheen of sweat to break out on my hands and forehead. Carefully I pulled myself back onto the ledge and tried to calm my heart.

_You're okay Finnick, you're not dead. You're alive. It's okay._

I was on my hands and knees, just waiting to relax. When my pulse started to return to some degree of normalcy, I took out the containers and let them fill up with the cold rain water.

I could see above me that if I got over this steep part of the cliff than the rest of the climb was easier and the rock formations provided for more protection. I decided that would be my next course of action. My muscles were still strong; it would be an easy enough climb, even if the rocks were wet.

I flung the hook up, catching it on something I couldn't see. To be safe I yanked and jostled the rope, and when it didn't come free, I started to climb. It was clear after a few minutes why they provided me with gloves; without them my hands would be a raw, blistering mess.

The scariest part was when I was practically dangling upside-down, my arms and legs burning with the strain and shaking with fear. I did _not_ want to fall.

_Don't look down, Fin._

_Oh who am I kidding? Look down._

I did, and wished I hadn't. I must have been a thousand feet up or so.

_You're okay, relax. You're fine._

I tackled the rest of the distance shakily, trying my hardest only to look up. But the pouring rain made it so hard to keep my eyes up. Finally I made it to flat ground and nearly kissed it. I dislodged my hook and put it back in my backpack, then drank some of the water I collected in the containers. My muscles were pulsing with the intense exercise and in a way it was invigorating.

_What is all this rain about, anyway?_

I looked and found I could see the entire arena, half of it coated in steaming black rock. The remainder of the trees sat like a patch of green hair on an otherwise scarred and ugly head. The whole scene was rather pathetic and destitute looking. The air still had that putrid sulfur smell to it.

And then the rain stopped and the clouds wiped away at an unnatural speed. Of course, everything was controlled by the gamemakers.

_I wonder if this is a volcano too, that I'm standing on?_

No, it couldn't be. The gamemakers would want to provide a safe place for the tributes to go or else they'd all be wiped out in lava and the whole thing would be extremely boring for the viewers back home.

The sky was then painted gray with thin, gloomy clouds. I sighed and sat against a rock, when I smelled something off. Like smoke, only not the toxic sulfury stuff from the volcano but smoke from a campfire. It was above me, from what I could tell. Carefully and quietly I packed up my things and hiked to the source of the smoke. Maybe I could push them off the cliff before they even knew what hit them?

I came up behind to jagged rock formations, the smoke leaking from just beyond them. I slowly peered around the side and my jaw fell open in shock.

"Marina?"

A boney figure was sitting against a rock with her knees bent up to her chin, poking a pathetic little fire made of dry roots and scraps of fabric. Her blonde hair looked thin and her skin was ashy and pale. Bones stuck out from her spine, neck, shoulders, and elbows; like blades trying to push through the inside of her skin. If I didn't know better I would say she was a ghost.

Slowly, with no emotion, the girl turned her gaunt face towards me, and rested her cheek back on her knees as if her neck wasn't strong enough to support her head for that long. Her eyes were looking out at me through black and blue sockets and her cheekbones were all but hollowed out. With some struggle, she opened her mouth and said in a dry, whisper of a voice;

"I told you they always choose a favorite."


	8. Chapter 8

**8**

**The Dove**

"What happened to you?" I asked, kneeling down in front of her. She looked so sick, so…thin.

"I tried to join the Careers," she explained in a raspy voice, "That's what all that stuff in Training was about. Right after the Cornucopia; they tricked me. They said I could join but as soon as my guard was down they stole all my supplies and left me for dead. It was all a big joke to them."

"Why did you want to join the Careers?" I asked gently.

"Tristan said it was my best shot at surviving. I was supposed to get some food and weapons and clear out once there were eight people left. I just never got there."

I reached out and brushed back the hair that was falling in her face. She closed her eyes and reached up to grab my wrist and that's when I noticed Annie's bracelet. It used to fit on Marina's wrist just fine but now it slid more than half-way down her forearm.

"You still have this," I smiled, touching it with the hand she wasn't holding.

Marina opened her eyes to look at the bracelet and gave me a weak smile, "Yeah, thank you. It gave me something to hold on to all this time." Her eyes were still the same blue, even if they were glazed over.

I nodded and then got up, taking the blanket from my pack. There was a ledge over her head and fire that was covering her from the rain, but she was still shivering like a baby leaf. I wrapped it around her shoulders and tried to get some water pass her lips, but the first dose made her choke and double over. I couldn't hide how terrible I felt, seeing her like this. I was so well fed…so hydrated…so warm. Her life was teetering on the edge of a knife and there was nothing I could do.

"Here, try again by yourself. I don't want to choke you," I urged her, gently putting the container in her hands. She shook her head tried to give it back.

"Don't bother Finnick. Don't waste it on me."

I shook my head and pushed it back, "It's not wasted."

She looked at me for a long time and then took a couple small sips. It seemed that was all she could really handle at that point anyway.

"So what happened, after the Careers took your supplies?"

She dropped her eyes to the tiny fire I was trying to restore and rested her chin on her knees.

"Well I ran for it. I didn't want to die by them. I hid in the bushes and made myself a rope of vines and then used it to climb the cliff. I don't really know what my plan was, just that I knew I didn't want to stay in the jungle anymore. I spent two days down on the ground after they took my things, begging for food or water or something. But it became very clear I wasn't going to receive anything from the Capitol." I shifted my weight uncomfortably, but she didn't or pretended not to notice. "On my way up, I got bit by something," she held out her ankle where two tiny punctures left dark purple swells and inflamed the entire area. I gasped and went to examine it, but she pulled it back under the blanket. "I don't know what it was, a snake or a spider or something. I can't really tell if it made me sick, I've been so hungry and dehydrated I haven't been able to feel much else…The only reason I'm alive right now is the first day it rained, it ran down the mountain in streams and I got to drink a lot. But I had nothing to contain it with…I don't know how long I've been up here, but nothing much has happened since…I've just been waiting to die quite honestly."

I watched the way her bones pushed against her white skin when she moved and felt sick. Why hadn't the Capitol helped her instead? I don't think I deserved it anymore. I wish they'd chosen her.

"I'm so sorry, Marina."

She shook her head, "Not your fault."

I pulled the medical cream the capitol sent me from the bag and scooped some out onto my fingers. She wasn't strong enough to resist, so I took her foot back and spread the cream on her bite. The poor girl let out a pathetic gasp of pain, almost like a starved kitten, before the burning resided and the pain was eased.

"There, that'll fix that so then tomorrow you should feel better and…"

"Fin."

I looked up at her miserably. It wasn't going to help.

"It's not going to help," she echoed my thoughts, "Whatever venom there was, it's already in my blood stream." She looked away, out into the open. "It's for the best I think," she then said softly, "I never could have killed anyone. And besides, one of us was going to die anyway; I'm just hoping it's not _both_ of us."

I pulled back one corner of my mouth and lowered my eyes. She was high enough up on the mountain that I wasn't too concerned with anyone coming to get us tonight, so I let the fire blaze.

"Fin, I'm not going to make it to morning," she whispered in a flat voice. My heart dropped and though I didn't like it, I agreed with her. That bite didn't look good and if that didn't kill her, the starvation and lack of water would.

"Doesn't matter," I decided, sitting down next to her, "This is your life. You can die when you want to."

I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her into my chest. She went without argument and I could tell I didn't say the right thing. Marina was always just a victim in this, the wounded prey, the dove on the altar. She didn't get to die when she wanted to or else she probably wouldn't be here.

I was holding her against me but even then her body didn't radiate back much heat. She was still quivering, so I held her tighter. This was the least I could do for her.

She was moving feebly and then the string of shells was slipped onto my wrist. "Marina…"

"Take it, it's yours anyway," she nestled back into my arms and rested her head against my chest, "Something to hold on to."

I don't know how long we stayed like that. I was trying to sleep, but I couldn't. I couldn't stop thinking about the way her body was trembling against me or the dark circles around her eyes. Or what the Careers had done to her. I pictured Celeste and her followers, laughing as they left her to die. Probably right before they went out in search of me. It made me so angry I wanted to go and hunt them down right then, but Marina's little body kept me on the ground. I owed her this last bit of comfort.

The fire began dying down and she started shaking harder. I rested my chin on top of her hair and began humming Mags' lullaby, making sure I didn't loosen my grip. The wind was beginning to blow and the damp air made it so cold. The arena was making angry noises from the volcano and the forest, so I decided to just start singing; even though it was quiet and maybe not even on pitch, it was still an improvement on the scary grumblings from below.

"_Out on the sea my love_

_There's a gray ship of shining glass_

_A white dove is sitting, singing_

_On the crystal mass_

_And out on the sea my love_

_The ship is sailing fast_

_Back home to the shore_

_Home my love at last._

_But 'til that day_

_The dove it comes it sails alone_

_Remembering the shore and land_

_How the breaking waves shone_

_It comes to sing its song_

_To tell us of its tale_

_The ship of glass is sailing fast_

_The wind is in its sail_

_So go to sleep and do not fear_

_For it glides on silver lining_

_The dove is coming for the shore_

_The ship it will be shining."_

I drifted off to sleep after that I think. I didn't have any dreams, I wasn't even aware I was asleep until the crack of the canon woke me up.

"Marina?" I whispered, shaking her. It was dark and the fire had died. She wasn't shivering anymore.

"_Marina?_" I tried again, a little louder. She was completely still.

I don't know what came over me, but I laid her down on the ground and frantically checked her pulse. Nothing. I did mouth to mouth. The air filled her lungs but still no life. I couldn't get her heart to start again. I pushed against her chest over and over, but nothing happened. And then I started crying. Not sobbing, but tears were going in a steady stream as I continued my efforts to revive her. I couldn't control them and didn't try.

This was my fault. I killed Marina, and she knew it before we were even in the arena. And yet she was nice to me. I ran around the game getting bread and water and medicine in silver parachutes while she sat on top of the mountain and slowly starved to death. Her family must hate me.

_I _hate me_._

Marina lay motionless in front of my knees, looking little different from when she was actually alive a minute ago. I stopped trying to save her, folded over, and rested my head against her silent heart.

"I'm sorry, Marina. I'm so, so sorry."

I knew that the ship would be waiting to collect her, and if I didn't clear out soon then they would clear me out. But I couldn't just leave her.

_You have to go, Finnick._

I fixed her hair and laid her hands so the palms were facing up. This was the proper way to lay a dead person back home, it showed peace. Then I kissed her forehead and set out down the mountain with a hollow feeling in my stomach. I closed my eyes when the ship sailed overhead. I didn't want to see her unceremoniously yanked up by their metal claw. They did this to Marina just as much as I did.

I found a new place to camp; it actually had a tiny cave. I sat down and stared out into the darkness.

_I don't want to play this game anymore._

There really was no point anyway. I didn't have a weapon, and no means of getting one. For all I knew, the supply that was provided got lost in the lava slide.

I closed my eyes and let myself wallow in my grief until I fell back asleep.

"_Oh come on," her voice is escalating, "Come on! I see how this is going to be."_

"_What Marina, what's wrong?"_

"_It's him!" she shouts, pointing a finger at me. I back up and put out my hands, palm up. The room is steeped in blood red and the dark purple light, and Garcia, Mags, and Marina all towered over me with distorted, shadowy faces. Tristan is behind them, stumbling around and clutching a bandage over his eyes, a bandage soaked in black blood._

"_What did I do?"I cry._

_Marina stepped forward from the line and leaned over me so I was on my knees, staring desperately over her._

"_Look at you! I know exactly how this is going to go. We all know that it comes down to one person in that arena and the Capitol people choose their favorite from each district to sponsor. No pair gets the same treatment. And look at you. So superficial, you won them over me because you sold your face to them. You're killing me, Finnick! MURDERER!"_

_The group behind her closed in around me, hissing her words._

"_Murderer, murderer, murderer…"_

_I doubled over and held my hands over my ears, screaming._

"_Finnick?"_

_It was Annie's voice. I was back on the rock in the middle of the raging storm on the sea. This time I was on top of the rock and Annie stood on a smaller one adjacent to it. She was looking at me with wide eyes._

"_Annie."_

_Tears streamed down her face, and suddenly I felt my heart breaking for her._

"_Why are you doing this to me, Fin?" she asked, holding out her hands with the palms up._

"_Doing what?" I shouted over the roar of the storm. But then I looked down in my hands where a string of seashells suddenly appeared. I looked back up to see the other end tied around Annie's neck. She was crying and for some reason I pulled the string of shells and she fell into the turbulent waters below. I screamed and screamed, but she was gone._

_A wave crashed over the rock and I was swept away with it. Under the water was Marina again, floating motionlessly with her eyes closed; suspended in the abyss like a ghost. She was starved like she was in the arena and blood was inking out from her ankle and into the water. She was so still, so calm, so weightless…_

_I washed up on the beach. Annie was standing there above me._

"_Annie…but you fell in the water."_

_She shrugged._

"_So did you."_

"_But…"_

"_It's not like you can't swim, Finnick."_

_She wound the string of shells around my wrist while I laid there helpless on the sand. "There," she said, straightening up, "something to hold on to."_

_The ocean began sucking me back in and I was powerless against it. Annie was waving good-bye, my parents suddenly behind her, but I was panicking._

"_Annie! Guys, wait! Please—"_

_Too late. I was under water again until the entire ocean drained into an undecorated room with a lone bed, where normal Mags sat and stared at me._

"_Mags?" I asked, scared of what would happen next. She smiled her sweet smile and gestured for me to sit with her. I did._

"_You have to win now, hon," she told me, staring straight ahead._

"_I can't, Mags."_

"_You can show mercy. Kill them quickly. Fish in a pool, either they die or you do."_

"_I don't have anything to fight with."_

_Mags sighed and continued to stare ahead, "You have your head. Your heart. Your skills you got from home. Use those. You can't give up, Marina would want you to win. She knew you could win from the very start."_

"_Mags…"_

"_Fight for her. Fight because she couldn't. Fight to get home. It's the only way out, Finnick."_

_I was going to say something but water poured in from the corners of the wall until they yielded to its force and the scene was sent spiraling into the depths. I swam up, hoping to breach the surface before I drowned._

_I did. My head came over the waves and in the distance was something absolutely beautiful. A glass ship; sailing on the horizon. Marina was dressed in white, healthy again, sitting on the mass with a pointed and determined look to her. Her dress whipped around in such a way it looked like she had wings. And she was humming, I could hear it as clear as day over the sloshing of the water. The tune to the lullaby;_

'…_it glides on silver lining_

_The dove is coming for the shore_

_The ship it will be shining…'_

_I marveled at its beauty as it crossed the line where the sea met the sky, leaving behind a silver trail. Just before it faded away, the scene flashed and I was in the water right next to the ship. Marina turned to look at me, and a conquering smile stretched across her glowing face._

_And then the water washed over my body and began pouring into my mouth. It filled me with rage, with fire, with burning determination so intense it ached. I felt like a volcano, ready to—_

I woke up to the sensation of falling. Before I realized what was happening, I crashed into the ledge below and covered my head as several tiny rocks came tumbling after.

_What the hell?_

I guess I had forgotten to secure myself with a rope that night.

I laid there for a moment so I could try and get my wind back, and then stood with a newfound determination. I didn't feel any of the new scrapes and bruises I gained during that fall; I was going to win this game. I don't care if I had to do it with my bare hands. There was a tide pulling me home and I intended on letting it take me. For Marina. For my friends and family.

"Come and get me, I DARE you!" I hollered into the air. Let them find me. Let them climb. I'd drop rocks on them all if I had to. And that's when a large silver parachute came sailing down from the sky. The package attached to it was huge, and I had no idea what it could be. I caught it and opened the box eagerly, nearly falling over backwards when I saw what was inside.

There sat, perfectly crafted and shining in the sun, a trident.

_These games are over._


	9. Chapter 9

*****IMPORTANT*****_Reread this chapter please, I added stuff in the part I originally posted and extended the chapter by a lotttt. Happy reading!_

**9**

**This One Night**

So _that's _what happened to my bracelet. The cameras had stayed away from Marina for the most part, after she was robbed by the Careers of course. I almost forgot she still existed, but clearly she did exist to Finnick. He found her and low and behold, there were my shells wrapped around her wrist.

I was surprised how much I didn't mind. If they gave her strength through the whole ordeal, than I'm glad she had them. Happy, however, I had to wonder under what context he gave her the shells. Did he love her? No, I don't think so. Finnick was smart enough to resist those feelings when he knew they were doomed to die…

Or at least I hoped he was.

More likely he was being nice and they became friends. She was three years older than him anyway…and engaged to another boy—Ammon, I think his name was—so that had to be it.

I think all the hearts in Panem broke when he held her that night he found her. I was watching the games with his mother again and we hugged each other pathetically when he tried to revive her after she died. His father was there too but kept perfectly composed; the only revealing change I noticed was the way he clenched his jaw the whole time.

After Finnick had gone to sleep, they showed us the Careers. They were standing in a circle, Celeste, Hector, Viper, and Goren. They had finally recovered from the strangling smoke and were trying to decide what to do next.

"I say we part ways," Viper's voice cracked, "That canon means there's nine people alive now. We have no idea who's dead yet, but we can't afford any chances. If Finnick is out there, there's no doubt he's getting plenty of help from the Capitol. We can't stay together in a bundle for him to take out all at once."

They all agreed, but still didn't budge from the circle. Goren—a man of few words—was looking at them suspiciously.

"How do we know that the second one of us turns around, the others won't attack?" he asked in his bass voice. Celeste pursed her lips and looked at the others.

"Goren there's a sort of code amongst the Careers. You're from district six so I wouldn't expect you to know it…but basically when a group decides to break, you give everyone one day to disperse. It keeps the games interesting, it gives everyone time to plan, and if you don't you won't have a home to go to. You break the code and you lose all your honor. Get it?"

Goren smirked, "My district wouldn't care if I killed you all right now."

"You won't, if you know what's good for you," Hector warned.

With that, they reluctantly gathered their personal items, though it seemed they lost a lot after the volcano.

"Okay, so by tomorrow's midnight, everyone's fair game," Celeste said as a farewell, "May the odds—"she gave a quick laugh, "be ever in your favor."

Then they took off in different directions, all of them reluctant to leave the woods. Except for Goren, who made a beeline for the cooled lava. It was an odd choice because none of them had any food, and certainly the flat rock wouldn't. But then again, maybe he was looking for refuge more than sustenance.

They all fell into restless sleep, coddling whatever weapons they had left. No one was safe anymore.

When it hit morning in the arena, the screens opened with Finnick. He was thrashing in his sleep and in a very dangerous location. My heart caught in my throat when suddenly he rolled right off the side of the ledge.

"No!" his mother gasped, instinctually grabbing the air with her hands as if she thought to catch him.

But it was okay…sort of. He fell about five feet and seemed to wake up during that time. Then he hit the steep slope of the mountain and rolled violently down that for a short distance, fell another four feet, and landed face down on flat ground below. Winded, swollen, and bleeding, he still pulled himself up with a certain determination. He didn't even seem aware that he was injured at all.

"COME AND GET ME, I _DARE_ YOU!" he roared into the air. It echoed all around the mountain, making it even more dramatic. They showed quick shots of the boys from seven and six that were somewhere on the mountain too, picking their heads up at the sound.

I had to admit it was an impressive display, it seemed like he was really ready to fight. And that's when a silver parachute fell into his hands, holding a trident.

"Wow," his mother gasped, staring with wide eyes at the screen. His father leaned forward in his chair in amazement.

"That's…must have cost a fortune to send," he whispered in an awestruck voice. A look of sheer victory crept across Finnick's face. Yes, this is what he needed to get him back in the game. I've seen his work with a trident before and he's marvelous at it, it's like an extension to his arm. I let myself hope he'd really come home.

He really could come home.

Fin climbed down the mountain with vigor, landing soundlessly in the jungle where the remaining tributes were hiding. He found a quiet nook and got to work on several grass nets. It was the most enthusiasm I've seen him use in the arena thus far. Caesar Flickerman agreed, according to the interviews he was doing with the gamemakers. The Capitol was tickled pink with Finnick's newfound zest. When a few peacekeepers came to interview Finnick's parents, that's what they asked about the most. Do you think Finnick can win, what's this sudden turn around about, blah blah blah. They left as fast as they'd arrived; Mrs. Odair was extremely camera shy, after all.

The rest of the morning was used up displaying how no one had any food except for Carson and Finnick because of their knowledge of the jungle's plants. All the rest were feeling the tight squeeze of hunger's fist.

"Attention ladies and gentlemen," Claudius Templesmith's voice rang over the arena, "It is time to announce our annual feast at the Cornucopia. The layout will be presented at nine o'clock, tonight. We realize that food of the need, and for some of you, this will be your last chance. Good luck, and may the odds be ever in your favor."

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

A feast. Intriguing.

I didn't need food, thanks to Carson—though I'd never really _thank_ Carson for anything—because I could live off the remains of the forest. And now I knew that the feast would draw in the other tributes to the center. It was time to act.

I'd finished twelve nets, not including the one I left after teaching it to Carson, and got to work. I set up snares as close as I could to the Cornucopia, but always made sure I had a landmark that would tell me where it was. It was difficult, sneaking around the jungle. I could hear some tributes snoring every once and a while, but didn't attack. I wasn't positive whether or not the Careers were still together, and to go bursting in on the attack could be potential suicide.

No, I had better plans.

I walked along the edge of the forest and noticed, out in the distance on the flat surface of the cooled rock, sat a dark figure with a fire beside it.

_Must be Goren, no one else in here is that big even from this distance._

I decided to leave him be for now. If he was willing to sit out in the open, completely unhidden, he must want an attack. And I wasn't going to fall for it.

On my journey, I couldn't help but remember the pie I had so brainlessly gone after in the circle of vines; the one that may or may not have set off the volcano. Something about it had drawn me in, but now it just seemed so obscure and so dumb.

_The Capitol and their stupid, delicious pies._

The snares took most of the day, partially because I had to be so quiet and sneaky, and partially because they were damn hard to make; but mostly it's because whenever I had to put my trident down, I'd have to check on it every ten seconds. I made up a song to help me remember where I put them;

_The orange palm trees_

_The steep riff_

_Rock that looks like a man_

_The indent in the cliff_

_The big gray rock_

_The tree with a face_

_The bed of moss_

_The living vine place_

_Left of the Cornucopia_

_The odd purple mass_

_The flowerless meadow_

_The tall itchy grass._

I actually got most of it to rhyme which I was pretty proud of. But now darkness was rolling in again and the tributes should be making their way for the food any minute now…

A shout. The sound of tree branches. Yes, someone's already caught. I ran through the trees with my back hunched over so as not to draw attention to myself by the other tributes. It sounded like the trap near the clump of palms with the orange tinted trunks.

Sure enough, dangling in my net in an extreme panic, was a boy. I think he was the boy from District Seven, to be exact.

_This is it Finnick, fish in a pool. Just do it fast! _

I ran out from my hiding place, my trident held up for the strike. I expected to yell, or cry out heroically or say something at least powerful. But all I managed to shout was, "I'm sorry!" before sinking the prongs into the boy's back with a sickening, meaty thud. The canon fired almost immediately after, and the guilt threatened to wash over me. But no, I wouldn't let it. The time for weakness was over, and I had a home to get to. I yanked the trident out of the boy's back—the sound and feel of it nearly overwhelming me with nausea—and then cut down the net. The lifeless boy fell with it and hit the ground with a thump. I couldn't leave the evidence of my plan behind, so I cut the net away while doing my best not to look at him, and then threw the grass ropes into the plants where they blended in perfectly. Then I left so the ship could collect the boy.

_Either they die, or you do._

The sky was dark enough now that it had to be getting close to the serving time of the banquet.

_You shouldn't go, you have enough food._

_I should go, even if just to watch._

I snuck my way back to the Cornucopia, checking my snares just in case any of them came loose or caught something. It wasn't hard to find, I could smell the food from a mile away. It smelled delicious. I peered past some leaves just to catch a glimpse of the situation. Viper was standing at the end of the table, squinting at something I couldn't see. Queerly enough, Hector was there too, though a few feet away. Either these Careers really were as stupid as I took them for, or they were still allied. Or they broke and they're under the honor code.

Didn't matter I guess. I needed to see what they were looking at, but it was difficult to move without making a sound. Feeling sort of foolish, I got down on my stomach and started to drag myself to the left. I hadn't realized just how badly I had bruised my ribs and limbs when I fell until that moment, but I had to get over it. If I made a revealing sound now, I was probably done.

When I'd made it about six feet, I risked another look. This time I could see a white scroll at the head of the table, reading;

_Only the items that set the mountain on fire_

_Are safe and what you desire_

_All the rest will only bring death_

_Choose your food wisely, or breathe your last breath. _

Odd.

But then I looked at the table, and sure enough amongst the assorted breads, meats, and produce, sat three perfect, delectable pies. Of course, it all made sense to me because I'd discovered the bug-filled pie in the jungle, but they hadn't. It actually seemed a little unfair, but who was I to complain?

"I'm not risking my life for this piece of shit riddle," Viper spat. She snatched the scroll off the table with a smirk and took off into the protection of the jungle. Hector looked at the food longingly, almost puppy-like, before slouching back into the forest as well. I couldn't be sure the close was clear, but I had to risk it, for poetic's sake. Leaning ever so slightly out of the cover of the bushes, I used my trident to skewer the three pies—one per prong—and pull them safely to me. Now all the rest of the food left was trouble, and perhaps it may even kill someone. Who knew? This could be my lucky day.

_That's a sad thing to think, Finnick._

I shrugged it off and slunk away with my little treasures. My mouth was watering just at the very smell of them. I was so distracted I almost ran into one of my own snares.

_Okay, make camp, then it's feast time._

I found my comfortable, familiar nook in the trees and began to dig into the middle pie that I believed to have strawberries in it. One bite and I was drooling like a diseased dog. How could anything ever, _ever_ taste so freaking good? It was like—

Well I never got to figure out what it was like because a rock struck the trunk of the tree one inch away from my head. I shot up to my feet, grasping my trident defensively.

"I saw what you did there," Hectors voice growled, "the food. I don't know how you knew what that scroll meant, but I want those pies. Now."

He emerged from the dark holding out a sword and a ravenous hunger to his eyes.

_I'm going to be killed over three damn pies._

"You can have them," I shrugged, kicking the one I'd just taken a bite from to him. He looked confused, glancing up and down between me and the pie.

"Well…you…wait. What did you do to it?"

"What do you mean?"

"You must have poisoned it…"

_So he IS stupid._

"When? Somewhere between the time I took a bite and the time you threw a rock at my head?"

He scowled at me, demonstrating exactly why people say not to antagonize those stronger than you. But he was just so…hard to swallow.

"I'm going to kill you," he announced, pointing a finger at me. And though it wasn't the top thing on my mind I couldn't help but note that even his pointer finger was unusually bulky.

"Try."

He roared like a beast and swung his sword straight at my neck. I caught it in between the prongs of my trident and twisted it so it flew out of his hand. His face turned a beet shade of red and lunged, pummeling me to the ground. The arm with my trident was pinned under his knees, so there wasn't a lot I could do as he punched me across the jaw. I swear I could hear our bones crunching together under our skin.

_Get free, Finnick._

I punched him in the jugular and wriggled out from underneath him, struggling to keep hold of the trident. Where was his sword?

Back in his hand, apparently.

The blade caught my shoulder, which hurt like no one could believe. Instinct took over from there and I started stabbing at him like I would a school of fish. He deflected most of them, but a few times I caught his arms and even his rips. Nothing lethal, unfortunately.

_This guy helped rob Marina. Maybe even hurt her. Kill him._

Somehow he got hold of my wrist and I found myself on my knees, my torso contorted in such a way I wondered if Hector had any ulterior motives regarding this fight. My vertebras didn't appreciate it, some of them almost seemed to be slipping out of place.

"Aughhh!" I shouted, twisting myself so I could get away. I swung my weapon around and caught his chest, which got a satisfying cry from him. But then he grabbed the trident—something fish never did—and yanked me closer to him.

"You're going to pay for that," he rasped between breaths. He pinned me down so my head was tucked under my chest and took my left arm back, twisting it slowly and painfully. I couldn't move as I felt the bones gradually start to splinter, the tendons slowly starting to tear. It was the most painful thing I'd ever experienced, physically.

I flung my hand arm up, hit him on the eye, and leapt away with a sickening, crunchy popping sound. Then I was running, running as fast as I could for cover. Because I knew I needed to regroup, and I was also very aware that I was in a lot of pain. When I finally reached a resting point, I collapsed and tried to catch my breath. I had wounded Hector, that was good. But something was wrong with me, but my head was too muddled to understand what it was. Sleep came before I could figure it out.

~O~O~O~O~O~O~~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

"It's okay, Dae, he's alive," Mr. Odair assured his wife, rubbing her shoulders. After that episode with Hector, we were all left in a state. The way his face contorted with pain when that guy was twisting his arm made my stomach hurt. But he got away, with his trident. So he could still win.

I'd been spending a lot of time with the Odairs, since Pearl kept having friends over and Echo was always staying out with other people. I had friends, but I felt like Mrs. Odair needed me here, to help clean, cook, and make nets. I suppose Finnick must have helped with a lot of this stuff while his father was away, now it was me.

The screen went to Viper, who was sharpening a knife with a smooth rock somewhere in the forest. She looked angry and was hunched over slightly to suggest her stomach was panging with hunger. Would no sponsors send her food?

Then a rustling in the trees sent her flying to her feet.

"Who's there?" she hissed, "come out."

Carson emerged from the foliage, hands up innocently. "Give me a minute to explain before killing me?" he asked, almost patronizingly. I didn't like his eyes, they were so cold, and his stride was so silent and smooth like a snake. Ironic, seeing as he was in the presence of a girl named Viper.

"Spit it out," she barked.

"I want to propose an alliance."

A knife whizzed through the air, nicked his cheek, and landed with a thud in the tree behind his head. Either he was expecting it or he had poor reflexes, because he barely reacted at all. Viper seemed perplexed but didn't yield.

"I just got out of one, actually. It's a little late in the game to be making friends."

Carson shook his head, a devilish smile on his face.

"It would be a short, mutually beneficial arrangement. I want to learn some skills with knives like you have. In return, I'll teach you how to eat off the things here in the woods."

She almost scoffed and already seemed ready to turn down the offer, "I don't need it. These games will be over in a few days tops, I can survive til then."

"You think you stand a chance against the others in combat, when your half starved and they have food?"

She looked at him sharply, her eyes spewing venom.

"None of the others have food."

"I do," he shrugged, "And so does Finnick, I believe. Celeste, well from what I've seen she can get the sponsors to take care of her. Goren and Hector have enough extra meat on their bodies to sustain them. You, however, are at risk."

She seemed to consider this, but something was in the way.

"She's too proud, she'll never take him up on it," Mr. Odair told the room. I found myself rooting for Viper in this situation, even if I didn't want her to win in the end. I hoped she'd kill this Carson once and for all.

"No dice, sorry," she whispered, narrowing her eyes.

"I'll throw in how to make snares," Carson offered in a last-ditch effort. Why was he doing this?

"Show me. Show me the food and the snare, and then I'll show you the knife tricks."

"I'm not stupid, you'll kill me before you make your end of the bargain." They'd reached an impasse, so Carson sighed, "I'll show you one plant. And how to start the snare. You show me how to use a weapon, then I'll stay unarmed and show you the rest of the snare and another plant. After that, we'll go our separate ways. Deal?"

Viper appraised him a moment, then lowered her knife. "Fine."

"This is going to be interesting," Mrs. Odair said with a raised eyebrow.

Which snake will win?

"Annnnieee, time to come home!" Pearl called from some nearby point outside. I sighed, thanked the Odairs, and then scampered home before I encountered any peacekeepers. The games were on, so I grabbed some bread and sat down on my mat, waiting for Finnick to come back.

The girl from five snuck up to the table inside the Cornucopia. She checked, saw no one around, then grabbed an armful of food and shoved it into her little backpack. As a second thought, she shoved a roll into her mouth and ran off. She was dead a minute later. The canon fire split the night air, causing all the others to jump.

_Poor thing._

It was deep in the night now, which meant the Careers were all fair game to one another. We watched Hector come stumbling through the trees, clutching his bleeding chest. Celeste was leaned against a tree, her pants torn in strategic places, her only shirt being her undershirt. She was watching him calculatingly, the shadows playing funny tricks with her face. She was so striking, even after the being bedraggled by the arena. If anything, it just made her look fiercer.

"Hector," she called in a tone dripping with estrogen. He froze, not knowing where the voice came from. She walked slowly towards him, letting the leaves caress her face and comb her hair as she advanced. He found her with his eyes and stared, not sure what to make of what was going on.

"Relax," she whispered, standing a few feet in front of him, "I'm not here to kill you."

"Look, Celeste, just say what you want to say. I don't have time to fool around."

"That's too bad," she smiled, looking at him with a certain gleam in her eyes, "that's exactly what I was going to propose."

Hector seemed caught in limbo between his bleeding chest and Celeste's provocative tone.

"What?"

"Hector, don't pretend like you haven't noticed the…tension…between the two of us this whole time," she purred, "Before this all ends, I wanted to propose one night. One night where you and I can just forget about these games and killing and just simply be…_together._" She bit her bottom lip on that last word, leaning her weight to one leg.

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" Hector asked, bewildered. Celeste nodded, pulled her knife out from her belt and dropped it on the ground.

"Drop your sword," she ordered, pointing to the large blade in his hand. He looked at it, then back to her, then back to the sword, then back to her.

"This is a trap…"

Obviously he was going to need more convincing, so without missing a beat Celeste kicked off her boots and stripped until she was standing in nothing but her undergarments.

"C'mon, Hector," she whispered, taking a few slow steps towards him.

"The cameras…" he sputtered.

She laughed softly, "I don't think they can show those things on national television. And if they can…well…an audience might be sort of exciting."

Hector's mouth kept opening and shutting, be he was at a loss for words. Celeste got close enough now she could reach out and touch him, wiping the hair off his forehead and tracing his lips with her thumb. She got closer and leaned in, kissing his throat gently.

"Forget it all, just for tonight," she murmured into the crook of his neck, "_Please._ One of us isn't coming out, maybe both of us. Why shouldn't we have this moment?" Finally, it seemed, Hector's inhibitions yielded. He chucked his blade into a nearby bush and wrapped his arms tightly around Celeste's waist, kissing her hard on the lips. She returned it with so much vigor that they toppled over onto the ground, their breaths coming in short, desperate spurts.

"Think she's setting him up?" I asked casually. Pearl shrugged and watched the screen intently. But when it got too graphic, the cameras had to switch off. I guess nudity wasn't a big deal in the arena until they _want_ to be nude…

In the meantime, Carson had finished his first few lessons for Viper and was now learning how to throw a knife.

"Interesting," he observed, watching how her wrist flicked.

"Now you try."

After a few pitiful attempts, it seemed Carson got the hang of knife-work.

"He's a quick study," Pearl commented with raised brows. Carson began to hold up his last end of the bargain, and then the camera's zoomed in on him. He was showing Viper another plant, when he casually slipped another colorful frog into his hand. It was so subtle she didn't even notice and kept on talking plants.

"Then you roll the leaf up like this," he demonstrated, rolling a leaf around what appeared to be a root, only the other half was the frog, "And bite it."

He took a bite and for a second I thought he fell for his own trap, but it turned out it was only the decoy.

"What a tricky little worm," Pearl whispered, "I really hope she catches him."

"You take a bite, try it," he offered, holding the leaf out to Viper. She took it, smelled it, and then bit.

Her reaction was immediate. Carson tried to clamp his hands over her mouth like he did Armure, but Viper was faster. She grabbed his hand, twisted it behind his back, and spit out the food.

"What was that, what did you do?" she growled maliciously. Carson's eyes were wide and his knees were shaking.

"You bit it, it doesn't matter…" he tried to explain; "those things are insanely poisonous…_Ouch!_...You're dead."

But Viper didn't go down that easily. She twisted his arm back and then spun him around, attacking his face with her fingernails and fists. He was trying to fight back but—it was clear from the very beginning—he was all brain and not a lot of brawn. She had her hands clamped around his throat, digging deeply into his windpipe, when the worst of the poison started taking hold. She was choking, salivating, and twitching. Carson used this time to wriggle away from her, trying to stumble to safety. But Viper, writhing on the ground, managed to grab one of her knives from the tree, aim, and sink it into the back of his leg. He yelped but still managed to slither away alive.

"You _COWARD!" _she garbled, fighting her spasms, "You little piece of shit! _YOU SNAKE!" _her voice broke on the last word and she succumbed to the poison. The canon fired for her a minute later.

"That was intense," I sighed, sitting up straight. I felt bad for Viper; I was really rooting for her over that boy. But she injured him, so hopefully that would lead to his end. The screen switched to the bushes just outside the scene containing Hector and Celeste, just so we could hear their grunting and moaning sounds, before switching off to Caesar. He made jokes about how it must be killing the producers not to be allowed to air that action and how it was incredible how sexually charged the tributes are this year.

Their interview was cut short as the camera flashed back to Celeste and Hector. It was zoomed in enough so that they could only see both of them from the shoulders up. Celeste was lying on his chest, kissing him on the neck. I didn't understand why they were bothering to show this, when suddenly she clamped down on his jugular with her teeth. His shock quickly turned to alarm, but he didn't have time to react when she picked up a nearby stick and started stabbing him with it.

She kept going for the throat, making it one of the most gruesome and bloodiest deaths in the games. When it was done and the canon fired, she stood up and tried to spit the blood from her mouth. She didn't have any clothes, but his blood coated her body well enough.

"That was disgusting," Pearl groaned, making sure Echo was asleep and not watching. I nodded, appalled and yet mystified. She knew Hector was too strong for her, that she needed to find a weakness to use against him.

Well, she found one.

A silver parachute descended from the sky, a reward for her promiscuous theatrics. Inside was a feast for two, which I'm sure she could eat alone. She disappeared into the undergrowth, pulling her clothing with her. She only let herself grimace when she thought the final shadow had covered her face, but I saw it. I'm sure she was probably getting sick while hiding in those plants. Her moment of weakness.

I wanted to stop watching, to go to bed and try to sleep off the nausea that ensued after that grizzly death scene. But even with my eyes closed, I couldn't escape what I'd seen. The back of my eyelids were just another television screen replaying those deaths over and over and over and over. If I was going to have to watch something like that happen to Finnick, a _friend_, then I knew the scenes would never, ever stop.


	10. Chapter 10

*****STOP! IMPORTANT!*** Do NOT read this chapter if you haven't REREAD the new Chapter 9 I posted! I replaced the one I put up before I left on vacation. If you don't, none of this chapter will make sense because I added a boatload of stuff in there. Happy reading! ***IMPORTANT*****

**10**

**The Victor**

I woke up to a severe throbbing in my left arm. I looked down at it and gasped at the purple swollen quality it had taken on. I tried to move it, but it wouldn't budge. I tried my wrist, but still no response. I couldn't even get my fingers to move.

_Great._

Whatever Hector had done to my arm, I didn't have the skill or the technology to fix it. Sitting up was painful, and so was drinking water. That's when I remembered that bone-crunching punch I took to the face and decided I was hydrated enough for now. My left arm felt like a foreign object sewn onto my body; I didn't like it. How was I going to win with a gimp arm?

A snap and a yelp told me that something else was caught in my snare. I picked up my trident and ran after it.

_The orange palm trees_

_The steep riff_

_Rock that looks like a man_

_The indent in the cliff…_

It sounded close, probably the rock that looks like a man. But by the time I got there, the net was broken and no one was around. I cut it down in frustration and stalked away. Then it occurred to me I had no idea who was still alive. After I'd passed out last night any number of canons could have fired without waking me. Now there was no way to be certain who was dead or alive.

Another snap. near the cliff I believed. I ran for it and saw the boy from six thrashing around inside. I felt bad for him, and for a second I almost put down my trident.

_Not time to be weak, Fin._

I charged the net, and ducked under it, poised to strike. He caught my eyes and I froze, everything in me going numb.

"I'm sorry," is all I said before running him through the heart with my trident. I hated the way that felt, when your weapon breaks through flesh and bone. But it was fast. The life went out of his eyes instantly and the canon fired.

Well, I guess I knew for sure _he_ was dead.

I also now knew that as long as they were in the net, it was easy enough for me to stab them just using my right arm, seeing as my left was rendered useless. I took the remaining scraps of my shirt from my backpack and made a sling so that my arm wouldn't be flying around aimlessly whenever I moved. It helped too, to have it cradled instead of hanging loose. I walked through the forest, trying to figure out where to go or what to do. I nibbled on a root that Carson had shown me, but it hurt to chew. These games would have to end soon or else I'd die of emaciation.

For four hours I walked, tried to get feeling back into my arm, and hid if I heard a sound. I checked all my traps; found one had caught an animal. But I wasn't going to eat anything if I didn't know what it was, so I left it. Who knew if it bit? I walked into a piece of the forest that looked broken and lived it. The ground looked disheveled, but nothing could have prepared me for the scene a few feet away. The leaves, tree trunks, grass, and ground was all splattered with crimson. The smell of old blood overwhelmed my nostrils and I gagged, backing away from the spot. What had happened here? Surely, whoever's blood that was, they were dead.

I cleared out of there as fast as I could, now paranoid of animals and beasts alike. The viewers were going to get bored soon, something was going to happen for sure.

I found myself at the edge of the forest, the perimeter between the plain of cooled rock and the trees. Goren was still out there, his back to the woods.

_Well, what else do I have to do? He could be the only one left, for all I know._

I crept out to the plain, feeling self conscious about how open and visible I was. It anyone had a bow and arrow or even a good throwing arm with a spear, I was done. But Goren remained completely unaware I was there. I had to accredit that to my District once again; one of the first things my father taught me when learning to fish was how to focus my energy so that I can move without alarming other living things. I got so good at it; fish would swim unsuspectingly around my ankles, even though I had a trident just above the water waiting to impale them.

I crept silently until I was about seven feet behind him. My palm got sweaty against the hilt, terrified he would turn around and see me. But when I could tune out the sound of my heart and just listen, I could hear humming. It was coming from Goren from what I could tell. It was a cheery tune I'd never heard before, probably a folk song from District Nine.

_If you kill them quickly, there's honor in that. It's the only mercy you can show in that arena, to kill someone quickly. Maybe even when they don't see it coming. Just a thought._

I remembered Mags' face when she told me that and knew what I had to do. Quietly as I could, I snuck up about three feet behind him. I didn't dare breath or move anything but my feet. He had his head propped up in his right hand, poking an extinguished fire with a stick. He was still humming that cheerful little tune and I had to wonder what he was thinking about. Was it a happy memory?

_When they don't see it coming._

As fast as I could, I pulled the trident back and ran it through his back. The canon cracked not two seconds later. I hoped his last memory was a good one.

I ran back to the woods, longing for the cover of the trees. I hated the open, exposing air. Two down today, I was on a murderous roll. I glanced down at the shell bracelet and relaxed; a few more and I would be going home. I hoped that whoever was left was entertaining the audience enough to keep the gamemakers away from me. My arm was incapacitating me with pain and I had already killed two people today. Enough was enough.

I sat down in the cover of the plants and sat with my head propped up against a tree. I think I fell asleep, because when I woke up the sun was setting. I felt like I got to sleep a lot more than other people in the games I've seen, and yet I never felt rested when I woke. It was frustrating but more than that it was debilitating.

A snap. One of my traps caught something. I tcheck the one by the riff, but no one was there. I tried the oen enar the vines, and low and behold, there was my favorite person in the world caught in my net.

"Hello, Carson."

He wasn't struggling, in fact he just laid there with an exasperated graimce.

"Well, this looks oddly familiar," he sighed. I smiled but it wasn't' particularly funny, just ironic. We stayed silent for a moment, until he swung his head around and said, "Well?"

"Any last words? Final requests?" I asked. It wasn't patronizing, in an odd way I respected him. he got this far he deserved to say something if he wanted to.

"Don't toy with me, Fishboy."

I shook my head, "I'm not."

"I had a life back home, you know. I played this game hard too, to get back. But no, it's going to go to you. Or some other pathetic child running about this arena. Just do it."

I tentatively walked forward, my trident held above me. Right before I prepared to strike, he whipped his head around and his eyes bore deep down into mine. I was transfixed, frozen, like being looked in the eye by a cobra.

"You're going to lose it all," he hissed, right before I plunged my weapon into his stomach. The canon fire confirmed what I already knew; Carson was dead. A cold chill passed over me, remembering his icy cold orbs of eyes.

_You're going to lose everything._

What did he mean by that? I was going to die? I was going to lose my home?

I decided he was probably just trying to intimidate me. He was about to die, after all.

When the sun completely disappeared and night was once again on the arena,. The anthem stated to play and the faces of the dead flashed across the skies. The boy from six, Goren, and Carson. All the deaths done today were attributed to me. They were my fault.

Who was left? surely it was close to the end now. Last I knew only Viper, the girl from five, Celeste, and Hector were alive. Maybe some of them had died too…

Suddenly the ground broke out in violent vibrations. What was happening?

It felt like it had when the volcano erupted. Sure enough, when I looked up, more liquid fire was spewing from its mouth. I ran in the other direction, for the cliff. I reached the base of it and started climbing, not bothering with a rope or hook. But it began to tremble when I got a few feet up, and suddenly rocks were flying down the side of it.

_Come ON!_

A rock hit my hand and I fell back to the earth. For the best I guess, I would probably have fallen trying to climb with one arm. The rock slide was picking up speed, so I ran for it. I wasn't sure where to go, so I went north. The Cornucopia had to be safe, it was usually the base of all the games. The air was heating up and I could smell the smoke of the trees falling under the lava's blanket. To my right they were breaking and crunching with the falling boulders.

_This must be it. This must be the finale. They're rounding us together._

I made a beeline for the open clearing where the Cornucopia sat. the sounds of destruction were all around, but there was nowhere else to go. So I stayed put. Whoever I was going to fight would arrive any second now…

And there she was. Celeste came crashing through the foliage and into the clearing covered in soot and blood. Was it her blood or someone else's?

The noise ceased, leaving us to stand across from one another and catch our breath. She was doubled over, but kept her creepy beautiful eyes concentrated on me the whole time. When I'd caught enough breath, I called across the clearing to her, "Are we the last two, then?" She straightened up and nodded grimly. Fire was burning in her very demeanor.

_This is it._

"Where have you been?" she asked me, taking one step closer.

"Oh, running about. Surviving. I met my friend, Marina."

She furrowed her eyebrows, as if trying to remember who that was, and then a look of realization came across her and she smiled.

"Oh, Marina. How nice."

Anger was boiling up inside of me, how could she look so pleased? Did I look like that after killing someone? Would I smile and brag when I looked into the face of a friend of my victim?

"You killed her," I snarled.

"Did not." She sounded like a child.

"You led her on, stole from her. Why?"

Celeste shrugged, seeming to think it was unimportant. Maybe it was, but it was important to me. I needed to understand.

"We needed the extra supplies. It was clear she was weak, no matter how talented she was, she had victim written all over her face. We did show her some mercy, we let her run. Did we not?"

I shook my head and tightened my grip on my weapon, "You kill for fun."

Now she looked angry, "I kill to live. Are you telling me you haven't?"

"You _prostitute _yourself to the sponsors to get supplies! Where's the honor in that?

"Me?" she screeched, getting extremely worked up, "How about _you?_ You flaunt your body this whole time, walk around like you've already won. I bet this whole Marina thing is just a ploy, to make yourself look vulnerable and caring. Am I right? That's where those shells are from, I recognize it. What did you have to do, Finnick, to get that shiny little stick you're holding? How many kids did you have to kill?"

"Enough," I demanded in a low voice. She was lying; she was trying to make me doubt myself. I shouldn't listen.

But I was.

She shook her head and took two more steps towards me, "You're worse than I am and you don't even _see_ it."

I tried to stay still, I tried not to let my anger take over. I wanted to be in control. But I lost it when she reached forward, hooked her fingers under my bracelet, and tore it off with a beam in her eyes the whole time.

I leapt forward, whipping my trident around for her throat. She dodged it and got up behind me, pulling out a long dagger. I grabbed her wrist before she could plunge it down and twisted it until she yelped. Her face was wild and crazed and in the back of my head I had to wonder if I looked like that too. I pinned her and pulled myself to my knees—a challenge with one arm—and punched her. It went against everything I was raised for, but at the time it didn't matter. She wasn't a girl; she was a mutt in the way of my homecoming.

I was trying to get a proper grip on my trident when a burst of searing pain overtook me. Celeste was punching my shoulder over and over and over again. I felt the bones and muscles moving unnaturally under the trauma and suddenly she was up on her feet, plunging a knife into my back.

Cold and uncomfortable, but I didn't feel a lot of pain. Maybe I was in shock? Was I dead? No, I got up, my weapon still in hand, and attacked. She collapsed easily under my weight, but her fists were quick. I head-butted her with a blinding thwack, and took advantage of her momentary shock. I clumsily took up my trident and stabbed, the prongs finding a home in her abdomen. Apparently it wasn't deep enough to kill, because when I retracted my weapon she was on her feet. Her knife swept through the air and caught me on the cheek, tearing part of it open.

"That's for Brutus," she rasped, trying to slash me again. I grabbed both of her wrists, threw her to the ground, and then kicked her head. I didn't like how that felt, but I didn't have time to feel guilty or immoral. She grabbed my ankle as I started to run, and I fell, my left arm pinned painfully underneath me. She jumped on my back and brought a rock smashing down on my shoulder.

"Aughhh!" I cried out, rolling out from under her, stumbling to my feet and taking off. I needed to find a trap somewhere, but they were all gone. Either with the lava or the rockslide, any of the remaining few were lost to me. I couldn't go back to the Cornucopia at that point, so that one was no use. I kept running, feeling the blood draining from my body and the sound of Celeste's footsteps rushing behind me.

_The big gray rock…_

_The orange trees…_

_The tree with the vines….wait._

_The bed…no...riff…no…._

_Shit._

And suddenly I was in the clearing where I first met Carson, where I taught him to make a snare. Yes, there it was. I sprinted for it, standing right behind the trigger. Celeste emerged through the trees, spotted me and came to a slow halt.

"Accepting death?" she asked through heavy breaths. I felt weak and a strange metallic taste was in my mouth, but no I hadn't, thank you very much. Blood was spewing from the three gashes in her stomach, reminding me sickeningly of the volcano. I took and deep breathe and met her eyes with determination. I had to get home. I was not going to die.

"Try me."

She ran forward, her knife poised over her shoulder. I braced myself just in case the snare didn't work, but sure enough when she got close enough to reach me, the snare went off and swept her up into the net.

_Eh, what the hell. Thank you, Carson._

"_NO_!" she shrieked, lashing around like a fish out of water. I clutched my trident firmly and positioned it under her.

"Sorry."

With a quick breath, I thrusted the trident upwards and into her chest. The death canon fired one last time.

Claudius Templesmith's voice rang out of the silence, bellowing across the world, "Ladies and gentleman, may I present the victor of the Sixty-Fifth Hunger Games, Finnick Odair of District Four!"

It was finally over.


	11. Chapter 11

**11**

**Memories and Letters**

I guess I passed out from blood loss after that, because the last thing I remembered was the deafening roar of the Capitol before I woke up in a white bed with needles in both arms. Everything smelled so…sterile.

I looked down at my body; completely stripped and naked. But not just of clothes, but of all dirt and blemishes and marks. All the scars on my hands and feet from years of trying knots and fishing were as if they were never there. Only the worst injuries left thin pale lines on my skin, but they barely hurt. There was this machine monitoring my heart beat, beeping along with every pulse, telling me I was alive.

_I guess I won._

I didn't feel like a winner. I felt like crap, actually. My body felt heavy and weak, but nothing compared to the pain I was in at the end of arena. Right now it just felt like having the flu from back home. An avox came in through a sliding door in the wall, holding a bowl of chicken soup and a bread roll. I reached out for it with my right hand and noticed movement in my left. The shoulder was wrapped up and the rest was held in a sling, but I could feel my fingers again.

Well it was something.

Mags walked in, along with Tristan in tow. The sight of her was strange and yet managed to completely melt my heart. It was like seeing your mother as a child when you were sick.

"Did I do good?" I asked, surprised how small and hoarse my voice was. How long had I been in here exactly? Mags smiled at me warmly and nodded, taking my face in both her hands.

"How do you feel?" she asked in her grandmother tone.

I smiled back at her and soaked in how warm and soft her hands felt, "I'm fine."

"Excellent job out there, kiddo," Tristan rang with an encouraging grin, "We got you this." He pulled a string of shells from behind his back, wiggling it so that they clinked musically.

"My token! But…Celeste—she broke it."

They both laughed at me, but I didn't see what was funny. She did, didn't she?

"A string of shells isn't that hard to fix," Tristan chuckled, allowing Mags to tie it back around my wrist, "_You're _the real project."

I grinned half-heartedly, but then stared at Tristan. I couldn't tell if I was angry with him or not. I guess it wasn't his fault about Marina, but still…

I think he sensed what I was thinking about because his smile faded a little and he found something really interesting on his feet to look at. Mags tapped the edge of my bowl with her finger, "You should eat something, Finnick." I looked down at the food and was surprised to find I didn't want any of it.

"I don't wanna."

She grinned and tapped it again, "Eat. It'll help you feel better. Otherwise they'll get a servant in here to help you eat it, and that won't be any fun."

I took a few sips and wrinkled my nose at the smell. Everything was so nauseating, not even the bread seemed appetizing until I saw the green tint of the seaweed. Home. I was able to finish that, but nothing else. The avox took the tray away and left the room, silently as she came. Something cool was trickling into my IV and my eyelids got really heavy.

"Go to sleep honey, we'll see you soon," Mags whispered, patting my head. I faded out with their fuzzy faces still lingering beside me.

The next time I woke up the tubes were out of my arms and my sling was gone. I looked down and saw that all the remaining scars had disappeared and my skin glowed with a peculiar radiance. I got up and tested my legs, which were stiff from lack of use. When they seemed to be working, I tested my left arm. It responded perfectly, if just a little inflexible at first. My stomach growled so I threw on the robe left at the end of my bed and walked through the sliding doors, into a hallway teaming with people in uniforms. My stylists, Ophie and Glovis came walking briskly down the hall with beaming smiles just for me.

"Congratulations!" they squealed, gifting me with a joint hug. I smiled and patted their backs lightly, hoping that would make them think I was being sincere.

"Only you could get to the end of the games and still look as ravishing as you did before," Ophie purred, tearing my robe away roughly and checking on my muscles. I guess I didn't mind just because they've already seen every inch of me completely naked, so what did I have to hide?

"We have a lot of work to do before the crowning tonight," Glovis chattered eagerly, inspecting my teeth, "Tut, tut. Get the prep team in here, we need to get moving."

I was whisked away to the changing room where my happy little sparkling stars of a team buffed me, oiled me, and yes, waxed me. I was dressed in a fitted suit with a sea flower boutonniere. They spent a good amount of time brushing and styling my hair, then shading out my cheek bones. When they were finished, my stylists and prep team a like sat there and gawked.

"You are so beautiful," Pippa giggled. Garcia trotted up, gave me an enthusiastic yet polite hug, and in no time, Mags was escorting me to the viewing of the games. I had to endure the deafening roar of the crowd, smile, and blow kisses to the young girls climbing over themselves to see me. Caesar greeted me with a winning smile. I returned it and shook his hand before taking my seat. After the crowd was quieted, they began to play the recap of the games. I watched myself fight Brutus. I watched the Careers accept Marina into their group and then rob her of everything she had. Then I saw myself kill Brutus and get hijacked by the Careers. It was all old news to me up until they showed the long, drawn out footage of the exchange between me and Marina. She looked just as emaciated on the screen as she did in person, but the footage didn't catch the blue in her eyes. Then after she was dead, they showed me get the trident and from that point on I watched myself plot, stalk, and murder and be murdered until I was claimed the Victor. After all was said and done, I felt nothing but sick. Had I really killed six people? With the same hands that were folded politely in my lap right now? It didn't seem possible, the boy on the screen couldn't be me.

"Congratulations, Finnick, I'll see you in tomorrow's interview," Caesar beamed with a cordial shake of my hand. Then I was standing while the anthem played and President Snow himself walked up to me and placed a crown on my head.

"Congratulations, Mr. Odair," he said politely. Why does everyone keep saying that? And I didn't like him; he smelled toxic and looked at me like a piece of meat. A toy. That's all I was to him.

When I was released they brought me to an extravagant party loaded with special guests and my generous and adoring fans. Food piled up on the table, and despite my queasiness, the hunger won over. Ophie, Glovis, Mags, Tristan, and Garcia all sat with me, enjoying the race for the desserts. I must have been introduced to a hundred daughters of various sponsors, some pretty, some not so much. I danced with a few, chatted with others, shook hands with most, and smiled at the shyest. According to Garcia, the best way to compliment a good sponsor is to treat their children nicely.

We escaped to a new flat where I was to sleep for the remainder of my time in the Capitol. Our dining room had food on the table and since I hadn't had much time to eat at the party, I ate until my head began to droop over my plate. Tristan draped my arm over his shoulder and dropped me into bed, leaving Mags to pull the blankets up over me and adjust my head on the pillow. It felt nice to have other people care for me again, and the syrup they gave me for sleeping took away all my dreams. I had no idea what would happen when I went home and they'd be allowed to return.

The next day Garcia escorted me to the changing room again where they dressed me for the interview with Caesar. I really just wanted to go home, but when I said this I just got a little pat on the cheek and the promise that I will, soon.

"Remember handsome," Garcia instructed, fixing my collar, "they love you out there not only for your face, but for that winning personality. So let it shine and make us proud!"

Luckily the interview was televised but not in front of a live audience, so I didn't have to wink at anyone in particular or blow a lot of kisses. Just one of each for the camera and that was it. I suppose I had to make the sponsors happy, in a weird way they kind of saved my life. Caesar and I had some playful banter back and forth about the lure of the pie in the jungle and how I got so good at making snares with grass nets. I explained how knots and nets are common things in District four, and a snare is just a combination of the two. Then he got down to the questions I didn't want to answer, the ones that made me long for home for than anything.

"So Finnick, I have to ask, what was it between you and Miss Marina Salts? Was there some sort of a…_romantic_ connection there?"

Romantic connection? What? Marina was…well I don't know what she was. She just seemed like a helpless victim, a sweet and intelligent girl that was dead before she signed her name to the papers. I felt bad for her, I liked her, I needed her in the beginning. But did I love her? Sure, but not the way Caesar means. At least I don't think so, how would I know what that kind of love felt like anyway? I was only fourteen, even if I was a little old for my age.

"No, of course not. Marina was…my friend I guess. It's a weird dynamic behind the scenes here in the games," I said with an attempt at a light tone, "I don't know what to make of it, but no romance. She actually has…had a fiancé back home."

Caesar awed and actually looked genuinely sorry for her. I couldn't tell if I was angry with him either, he was really hard not to like. Maybe it was just unsettling how…_brainwashed_ he was. He must know so many secrets and not even know what kind of gems he holds.

"So what will you do now, when you get home?"

I thought about it for a minute then shrugged, "See my friends and family, move into the Victor's Village, and just take some time to relax. I have something I need to give back to somebody for one thing, and I would love just to see my parents again." I thought I was missing something…oh yeah, my perpetual arrogance and sex appeal.

"But I'll be back again in the Capitol before you know it, so try not to miss me too much," I chuckled. Caesar laughed along seamlessly, making me look even more charming and desirable then I was. Because in truth I wasn't desirable, who would want a murderer?

We ended the interview and with a few tearful goodbyes—on their part—with my prep team and stylists, Mags, Tristan, Garcia, and I all boarded the train for home. It was the same one that took me to the Capitol in the first place. It felt so strange, like I died and was reborn into another universe. And everyone around me had nothing else to say but 'congratulations' and 'meet my daughter.' Why didn't anyone see the blood on my hands?

My trident sat in the living room, a gift to me as a special souvenir, though there was some debate to selling it to a museum or a collector. It was, as far as I knew, the most expensive gift ever sent in the history of the Hunger Games.

_Oh, the power of unbridled vanity._

I sat down at the table and sunk my head into my hands, the shells clinking on my wrist. Mags patted my back and then placed something in front of me. White folded pieces of paper.

"What's this?" I asked, poking them. There was writing on the inside.

She sighed and gave me a sad smile, "Letters from Marina, she wrote them before you guys entered the games. She told me that if you won, she wanted you to deliver them. If you didn't, me and Tristan were supposed to. But you lived, so, here you go. Oh, and there's one for you."

She left me in the privacy of my own misery. I plucked a piece of paper out of the mix and began to read.

_Dear Ammon,_

_ First off, I love you. Second, I'm sorry you had to—_

I stopped reading and folded it back up quickly. That wasn't for my eyes to see. I made a point to mark each one with the first name I saw after the 'Dear…' but didn't read any of the rest. But I couldn't help but see the endings, always finishing out with 'love' or 'my deepest love' or 'love you forever and always'. There was a lot of love in these letters, and what did I have? Did I love?

And then I found the one for me. It looked like she did it at the last minute because the paper was torn from the suggestions tablets we get on our nightstands in the Capitol building. It read;

_Dear Finnick,_

_Not a lot to say, but I thought I should say something. I can't help but feel a little bitter towards you, with the way the crowds cheer when you walk out in public and the way the Careers want you. I don't really think I stand much of a chance in these games, but I guess I'll try. If you're reading this I guess you did win, and if not maybe I won. I hope I tried, at least…_

_Odd. This feels very odd. Writing about myself in here in past tense because I know if you're reading it I'm dead…yes, very odd. I'll get to the point now then. I can see you're a lot more under that golden face and sculpted body (don't be too flattered I'm using adjectives for effect) and that you have a lot to live for. I don't know what, I barely know you. But I think it's hard not to feel a connection to someone you share a prison cell with. I'm glad you won…because you did…or will…and I hope you don't mind about delivering my letters. It just feels right if they come from you._

_Unless of course you killed me…in which case it could be awkward. Maybe have Tristan or Mags do it, if you're the one that killed me, okay? Oh and if that _is_ the case, I resent that. _

_I'm laughing now, writing this. It's too strange for me, it's kind of funny. Thank you for being a friend even if I wasn't a good one back, and thank you for the bracelet. Good luck, and if you're alive, well then good game. In better circumstances, I would have liked to have gotten to know you better. Stay genuine; don't let them own you, alright? P.S. Like my choice of stationary? Thought you'd appreciate it._

_All my love and sincerity, _

_ Marina._

I flipped the paper over to where the suggestions form was. Under the box that read, "Do you have any suggestions on how to make your stay a more comfortable one?" she wrote_; 'You're kidding…right? How bout you try not killing your customers?_

I smirked and then traced the letter where her pen hit the paper with my fingers. I almost crossed into my old room, but then thought better of it and went to Marina's. Memories bounced off the walls in this room. I put the notes on the nightstand and then got into the bed. Yes, she had been here at one point. Maybe they changed and washed the sheets, but I saw her here.

I fell asleep with nightmares of Marina and Caesar Flickerman burning letters and dancing around in the flames with their bodies slowly burning. I woke up with the sheets cocooning me to the bed.

_Is this how life was going to be for me now?_

_Probably._

…_Then what was the point?_


	12. Chapter 12

**12**

**Home Sweet Home**

I spent the entire morning pacing about the train, crossing from the bar car to the dining ccar, to the rooms, and so on. Mags, Tristan, and Garcia all ordered lemonades and sat on the couch, watching me with amusement. I didn't find it funny, not at all. It felt like I'd been away from home forever, that when I returned everyone should be grown up or even dead and buried. It didn't feel right that I'd be going home and everyone and everything would look the same. I didn't even like looking in the mirror anymore because I was always expecting to see someone different staring back at me, but it always was the same teenage boy with messy bronze hair and green eyes. What was I expecting? To be older? Maybe just different.

What should I expect back at home? I'm sure they will cheer, we always cheer whenever a kid comes home from the games to our district. But what about my friends? Would they treat me the same or would they be intimidated? My mother and father, what would they think? Marina's friends and family, what would they say to me when I delivered her letters? It was all too much to think about, Mags told me that I should just try not to worry until I get there because there's no way to know what to expect. But I couldn't stop, thoughts were spinning in my head until we crossed the border gate for my district. I rushed to the window and glued my forehead to the glass, watching as the familiar palm trees and grass huts raced by. My heart was swelling; I'd missed this so much. Finally the shore came into view and the sight of the sand and ocean overwhelmed me. I wanted to start running and jumping and shouting, but I had to stay put and soak in the image through the window. What I wouldn't give to leap out of this moving train and into that water.

We began to come to a halt, and I stood up on shaky legs. Mags gave me and encouraging smile and told me I should get changed. I nodded and went to my room, putting on the light, white tunic and pants they laid out for me. When I saw my reflection this time, I really looked like my old self, as if I'd never gone to the arena. I wish I could believe it.

I met up with the mentors outside the door, trying not to look nervous. Garcia was right behind us, fussing with her crazy hair and time schedule. Tristan propped his hand up on his hip and pretended to look at a watch, assuming Garcia's feminine twitchiness. When she noticed him mocking her, he got a sound whack on the head with her clipboard. We all laughed—except for Garcia of course—which I appreciated. I was so nervous the laughs sounded like nervous spasms.

We stopped completely and Mags reached out, squeezing my hand with her soft, bony one. I looked at her and she tapped her lips, reminding me to smile. I guess my attempt was funny because it made her laugh.

The doors slid open and at first the light was completely blinding, and then the cheering exploded and was completely deafening. So for a good five seconds I stood there shaking my head, trying to get my senses back. And then when my sight came back, I was besieged was just how many people stood in front of me. The entirety of District Four must be there, cheering and clapping and waving. I scanned the crowd and found some of my friends, trying to scream over the deafening roar. I waved to them and then found my parents; my mother in tears clutching my father's hand, who was beaming up at the me. I couldn't help but feel pumped, everyone was happy to see me! All my friends, my family, everyone here was cheering for _me_, because I came home.

After a few minutes of waving and grinning ear to ear, the peacekeepers let me down off the platform and into the crowd. For once in my life I was glad that the peacekeepers were there to help part the crowd to the ones I loved. My mother came crashing through the swarm and pulled me into her. I wrapped my arms around her without hesitation, absorbing the smell of her hair and the warmth of her skin—a thing a thought I'd never experience again. She was sobbing unintelligible things into the back of my head. My father came up behind me, so that when I managed to untangle myself from my mom, he swept me up into one of his rare but enthusiastic hugs. I embraced him quickly and then allowed my mom to link on to my arm. My aunts and uncles all filed up with my cousins, congratulating me and slapping my back.

Then my closest friends, Crest, Brye, Dawn, and Martin all gathered around with smiles just for me. Crest and Dawn both seemed a little more withdrawn then they used to, but Brye and Martin couldn't' stop telling me how much of a man I was. I gave them each a quick hug and then kissed the girls on the cheek. They weren't put off by my murderous rampage, at least.

"We're really glad you're home, Finnick," Dawn said in a bashful voice. What was up with these two?

Oh yeah, I'm desirable now or something.

The crowd of well wishers seemed endless, but after an hour it seemed to be thinning out. My father took my mother home to pack the rest of their things while a few peacekeepers waited to escort me to my new house in Victor's Village. I turned around, smiling and waving at a few village people I'd only ever known in passing. They seemed pretty happy to see me too. The last of the crowd were walking away, clearing out like mist in the morning. And just as I thought they'd all gone, I turned to find Annie Cresta, standing a few feet away from me.

"Annie," I exclaimed with surprise. I don't know what I was going to say, I suppose she merited a greeting after giving me my token and seeing me off and everything. It was nice to see her face, though in my dreams I imagined her more like her sister. Here in front of me she was pretty, sure, but she seemed younger than I was expecting. I flashed her my most charming smile, because from what I was understanding that was the best greeting I could give people here.

She folded her arms over her chest and curtly said, "You suck."

Well, that stung.

She spun on her heels and strutted away with her chin held up. I stood there gaping for a few seconds before a peacekeeper poked my shoulder.

"Are you ready to go now, Mr. Odair?" He didn't really sound like he was asking.

"Sure," I said, shrugging off what just happened. It wasn't until we started walking that I noticed myself gripping the white string of shells in my hand. I shoved them in my pocket and looked around, wondering if anyone noticed.

"This way," the man grunted, leading me to a car. We picked up my parents and their things from my old house and drove off to the new village. In the worst way I wish I didn't have to move. My mother squeezed my hand reassuringly, "We will always visit. We're not far, anyway."

Ever since I was a child, I'd always gawked at the splendor of the mansions in Victor's Village; so tall and magnificent with their white and seafoam plaster walls imbedded with shells, their gold trim, even the grand windows that seemed to shine more luxuriously in the sun than those in the regular villages. And now here I was, shopping for a home. It didn't feel real.

In the end I let my father and mother choose their favorite. It had a balcony outside that overlooked the ocean and had two large windows on the front, one on each side of the grand, ivory door. It had shells lining the gold border and a beautiful garden. Tristan was a couple houses down, Mags was across from him, and a few other victors filled in the gaps. We had eleven living victors in this lot, though few seldom came out if they didn't have to. One named Sheldon and his squeaky wife Fifi brought us a pie to welcome us to the village. I couldn't help but laugh at the gesture and got a knowing wink in return.

We ate dinner in almost complete silence, though I couldn't stop my mother from staring at me as if she was afraid I'd disappear.

"I'm right here mom, I'm not going anywhere."

She blushed and smoothed out her dress, trying focus on various points in the room beside my face, but she didn't last long. My father seemed to be perfectly at ease, eating his salad and drinking his wine as if everything was normal. I wasn't sure which one I preferred over the other.

Unfortunately having my parents under the same roof didn't ward off the nightmares. That night it started out with Celeste tying me down to my bed on the train, blood still coating her body. I couldn't move or talk or do anything to defend myself when she raised her knife and ran it through my stomach. But then I was beside the bed, holding the knife, and Celeste was the one drying in front of me. Her blood was on my hands.

After that I took turns murdering and being murdered by all six of my victims; Brutus, the boy from seven, the boy from six, Goren, Carson, and Celeste. Marina would stand in the corner, completely emaciated, and just watch. I woke up somewhere between getting swallowed up by lava and having my head ripped off.

_Only a dream, Fin. Only a dream._

How was I supposed to feel safe, like I was at home, when the only home I knew was in a completely different village? Maybe this mattress was stuffed with feathers and maybe the sheets were made of the finest silk, but it didn't matter. All I wanted was my scratchy grass matt under the window.

I couldn't sleep again after that, and the sun hadn't yet risen. I climbed out onto the balcony and shimmied down the smooth trunk of a palm, only daring to breathe when my feet were firmly on the ground. The air smelled like salt and the birds were all still asleep. I stalked out of the village and into my old one, avoiding the peacekeepers the best I could. They were heavier around the poorer sections, but most were asleep. I don't really think they cared much about what happened at four in the morning. I walked out to the docks where the tiny wooden boat was docked, tethered to the shore by a dinky old rope. It was as good a bed as any, so I paddled it out to sea a ways, dropped the anchor, and let myself fall asleep. Out in the open air, away from the walls and unfamiliarity, the dreams were not nearly as vivid or gory. I did a lot of running. But that was an improvement over the killing.

A few days went by that I stayed in the house, talking out the games with my parents and answering their various questions not about my emotional ties to the games but the physical. They gawked over my trident and told me what had been said about how it was the most expensive thing ever to make it into the arena, etcetera etcetera. Every night I would creep out to the boat to sleep and sneak back in through the windows. My parents weren't the kind to check up on me if I were sleeping in late, so I didn't have to worry about that.

After three days I decided to deliver Marina's letters. I dressed myself in a tunic and shorts and walked barefoot—like I used to—to the little addresses scripted on each note. Luckily enough for me her family wasn't too far from where I used to live. I manned up and prepared to face her parents.

I knocked on their door and almost ran away when they didn't immediately answer. But a tall, thin woman with tanned skin and a weathered expression opened the door. She had the same long neck and short wavy blonde hair Marina did. She looked confused to see me, and then maybe a little heartbroken. I folded and unfolded my hands, then just awkwardly held out the note.

"Marina wrote some letters before we left for the arena," I explained, when she took it slowly, "she asked that I deliver them…if I won."

The woman appraised me with sad gray eyes for a moment then nodded. Who I could only assume was Marine's father appeared like a shadow in the doorway, placing a big hand on her shoulder. His blue eyes flashed at me and seemed to understand without speaking. I wanted to leave with my tail between my legs, but I forced myself to speak.

"If there's ever anything I can do…anything at all…don't hesitate to ask."

I left then, not waiting to be dismissed. They closed the door and it was none of my business as to what they read or wept over.

I delivered two to who I could only assume were friends because they had different last names. One to her older sister in the neighboring village, and then one to her brother who worked on a large fishing vessel. I had to leave that one with a peacekeeper to give him because he was out on the sea. The most frustrating part of the trip was that everywhere I turned, I was being congratulated. I knew they meant well, but it didn't make me feel any less slimy and sick. I looked at the last note, Ammon, who I really didn't want to go see. For all I knew he would kill me.

Not like I didn't deserve it.

His house was easy to find, it was sturdy and green with circular windows. A young man opened the door with bronze skin and ashy hair. I could see a little bit of Mags in him, mostly in the eyes. He looked surprised and then perplexed by the sight of me. It wasn't in a 'how dare he' sort of way I was expecting, more like a 'why would he?'

"Marina asked me to give you this," I said, holding out the note. He took it hesitantly, stared at it, and then rubbed the letters with his fingers, like he was trying to feel her through the ink.

"Thank you," he said in a rich voice. I nodded and started to leave, when he called out again, "Not just for the note." I turned and looked at him. He seemed sort of shy and a little embarrassed, but sincere, "Just thought it should be said. Thank you."

He retreated into the house after that, leaving me to sort it all out for myself.

_Thank you for being a friend to Marina, not for killing her. You know that._

"Congratulations, Finnick," called a group of kids who used to go to my school. They were across the street in a clump, going off to do something fun and impromptu that I probably wasn't allowed to do anymore.

"Thanks," I mumbled, ducking my head and letting my feet walk where they may. I only stopped when they walked me right into the water.

I snapped my head up and looked around. The sun was setting and I was on a little beach covered in shells. I wasn't alone, either.

Annie Cresta was sitting on the sand with her feet stretched out so that the water would lap over her toes with the surge of the waves. Her dark hair was brushed out and she seemed transfixed on something I couldn't see.

"Do I still suck?" I asked, not sure if my tone was light or serious. What did I know anymore, anyway? I took a seat next to her and let my toes get wet. It was rather soothing in a way.

"What you did in the arena," she began, not taking her eyes off the horizon, "wasn't right. Not your fault…but still, not right."

I looked out at the sea and took that in. Why was hearing that such a relief instead of offensive?

"Tell me more."

She obliged, "The way you would trap those people was terrible, because they knew they were going to die before they did. And you killed so many people in one day, it was mind numbing. You could have stopped Celeste from torturing that boy from Twelve, and you could have used the influence of your sponsors to save Marina. And the way you play the Capitol with your looks…it's despicable."

Everything she said was accompanied with a whoosh of liberation for me. It was odd, and yet it felt wonderful. Finally someone saw me for the monster that I am and not applauding me. She turned her face and fixed her eyes on mine.

"But Fin, none of it was your fault. What you did wasn't okay, but what happened to you wasn't okay. Someone had to win…" she faced out to the water again, "I'm glad it was you."

I found myself laughing, actually laughing. She snapped her face back to me and scowled, "What's so funny?"

I sighed and grinned at her openly, "It's just…you're the first one who didn't congratulate me. It feels nice."

Something in her eyes looked sad and she dropped her gaze, "I don't think that's what you want anyway, to be praised. I'm sorry for you. I'm sorry for everything that's happened to you. I'm sorry you had to kill those people and I'm sorry they tried to kill you. I'm sorry we all had to watch and I'm sorry you lost Marina…I'm just…really sorry. But to congratulate you? Never. I'm just happy you're alive."

I wanted to reach out and hug her and tell her how much I appreciated her words, but that wasn't our relationship. Annie was the annoying girl who was nice to everyone and always tried to be my friend. I barely knew her, only saw her in passing at school and when our paths would meet on the beach. She was only twelve; she hadn't even hit puberty yet. No, I think the best thing I could do here was just not to smile one of my smiles I give to the people in the Capitol. I planned to leave, but then remembered the shells still tied around my wrist.

"Oh…here."

I pulled them off and held it out for her. She looked at them and shook her head.

"Keep them."

I nodded and put them in my pocket, leaving her to her peace. I was damage wherever I stepped, no sense defiling the Cresta's beach with my misery anyway. I found myself walking back to my old house and sitting down in the middle of it, surrounded by its empty but familiar walls. This was home, but of someone I didn't know anymore. A boy who never had a nightmare in his life. Now it seemed, even at home, I was living one. And yet…somewhere here I felt something. A stirring, I guess you could call it. A broken piece of myself that was patching back together. Maybe with time, the salt water and sun would heal me.

Why not?


	13. Chapter 13

**13**

**Prostitute**

About six months later.

"Annie, help Echo," Pearl barked, pointing to a pile of white ropes. We were preparing for Pearl's wedding this week, and the stress was insurmountable. It didn't help that Pearl's temper—which she rarely showed restraint with—apparently ran on the tap when she was under a deadline. Stephen kept out of the way for the most part, only appearing to deliver food or a short kiss. He always left Echo and me with an apologetic grin right before escaping. I sat down on the floor and helped Echo make the net that would drape over the couple's shoulders during the ceremony.

Pearl bustled about, making guest lists and muttering things I couldn't hear. It was going to be a simple wedding; we never held grand ceremonies here unless it was a particularly rich couple. Stephen was a successful fisherman and his family was used to a slightly higher standard of living then we were, so I think she felt the need to prove herself.

"Finnick is going to District Two on his Victory Tour today," Echo said conversationally. She seemed to have developed a little crush on him ever since he won the games. It was that—plus a little bit of guilt—that merited Fin an invitation to the wedding. He didn't know he was invited yet, but it didn't really matter. All he'd have to do is throw on some nice clothes and walk to the beach.

"That's nice," I assured her, pulling the rope through a knot. It was then that a boy walked in, completely unannounced. I recognized him and tried to pull his name from my memory. Raff, I think. Raff Clegerdy. I didn't like him very much; he smelled like sweat most of the time and didn't shave his whiskers enough. He looked older too, in his late twenties or early thirties. Older than Pearl's usual friends anyway.

"What do you want?" Pearl asked rudely, "I'm a little busy."

I also didn't like the way he looked at her with those beady little eyes. What was his deal again? He owned a ship I think, which mean money.

"I just wanted to stop by and say hello," he explained in his raspy voice. He moved in front of the table and put a hand over the paper Pearl was writing on. "Don't you want to say hello?"

Pearl clenched her jaw and slammed down her pen, looking up at his face, "Hello."

He didn't look happy with her lack of enthusiasm. He put both hands down on the table and leaned down in her face. She swallowed nervously and stole a quick glance in our direction. The tension in the air was tight enough to snap. I realized I had frozen and then busied myself with the net again. Pearl looked back to the man with a set expression.

"Can I help you with something?" she asked, a little softer than before. His angry face stretched up into a creepy, impish grin.

"Could we take a walk?"

Pearl frowned, "I told you I was busy."

"With what?" How could he sound so oily?

"My _wedding_, Raff. It's in a month and I have a lot to do, so if you could just back off—"

He grabbed her arm and pulled her up roughly, "Come on, we're going for a walk." She tried to resist but his fingers dug deeper into her arm and she yielded. "You seem like you could use the fresh air."

She looked at me and then back to him. For one second I saw the fire ripping from her eyes and then she sighed, steadied herself, and straightened up, "You're right. I could use a break from this. I'll see you in a few, girls. Keep working on that net."

They left after that and I couldn't stop the rage bubbling inside of me. It was Echo that kept me here, instead of chasing after them. I had no idea what was going on, but it made me angry. Pearl shouldn't be going for walks with anyone besides Stephen, and that man didn't seem charming or nice. I never understood what Pearl did when she wasn't with us, but I didn't ask. It wasn't my place. But every day I got older and every day it bothered me a little more.

"It's okay, Annie," Echo said comfortingly, patting my hand. I looked down and saw a massive wad of knots where a nice clean net should be. I sighed and got to work untangling them.

"I know."

We turned on the television to amuse ourselves, but all that was airing was Finnick's Victory Tour. The young girls in all the districts seemed to migrate to the front of the greeting crowd. They looked at him like hungry wolves do a bone. And there he was, smiling and waving and blowing them kisses. It actually looked like he was enjoying it a little.

_I really must be the only one left that sees through this. He's lost sight of it himself. _

I shut off the screen despite Echo's high-pitched protests.

"It's junk," I said curtly. We finished the net and folded it up into a box for safe-keeping. I sliced up some fruit from the bag Stephen dropped off and put the pieces in a grass bowl for Echo and I to eat for dinner. The air was cooling off and the sun was setting.

Echo popped on in her mouth and then whispered, "Are you friends with Finnick?"

I stopped eating and looked at her. "Why?"

"You gave him those shells in the arena," she looked away shyly, "And he's wearing them on his tour right now. It just seemed like you two might be friends or something."

"What?" I reached up and turned on the screen again. Finnick was waving at a crowd of people, thanking them for their generosity. There it was, on his left wrist, glinting in the sun. Did this mean we were friends? Probably not. Last time I talked to him we were on the beach and he tried to give the shells back. Every once in a while I'd see his mother in town and say hello, but he was never there with her. Whatever he was doing now, wearing them, was probably just for symbolism's sake.

"See? There they are," Echo insisted, tugging on my arm.

"I see Echo. But that's just for show, it's not because we're friends."

She looked disappointed, "So…you're not?"

I turned off the television and focused on my dinner, "I don't think so."

We ate in silence after that until Pearl came through the door, an odd expression on her face. My anger had disappeared a while ago so I just smiled at her and said, "Hi, Pearl."

"Where's the net?" she asked, irritation in her voice. Echo pointed to the box in the corner. Pearl bit her lip and then pointed accusingly at the food on the table, "You ate without me?"

"You were gone for a while Pearl, Echo was hungry," I tried to talk her down. I could feel her getting angry and knew she was trying to find an outlet.

"You got food on my guest list!" she shrieked, leaping forward and pulling the paper out from under the bowl. Pink juice had leaked through the bowl and stained the list. Pearl's face turned red as she shook it at us, "LOOK at this!"

"Pearl, we're sorry…"I tried to apologize, but stopped when she sent a clay bowl sailing into the wall. It shattered on contact and fell in shards on the dirt floor.

"GET OUT!" she screamed, throwing the paper at us. "GO! I don't need your little eyes looking at me like that anymore!"

Echo took my hand and yanked on it, so I led her from the house, leaving Pearl to cry about whatever it was that was upsetting her alone. This happened from time to time, more frequently after our parents died. Pearl had nowhere else to direct her anger besides me and even Echo, so sometimes she would burst and kick us out for the night. She always found us the next day. I didn't mind if she needed to use me as a whipping post every once in a while, I owed it to her.

Echo and I fell asleep on the beach, far enough up that the tide wouldn't reach us. Somewhere in the night Pearl walked out on the sand with Stephen beside her. She scooped Echo up into her arms and began walking. Stephen's arms slipped under me and lifted me up easily. I kept my eyes closed because I was just too tired to open them. He fell in step behind Pearl and I fell asleep with my head propped up against his chest.

The next morning I woke up on my mat, the sun pouring in through the windows. Pearl was sitting at the table sipping something hot from a cup. She looked tired. Stephen was in the chair adjacent to her with his head flopped back and his mouth ajar, dead asleep.

"Good morning," she said, not looking at me. Echo sat up and rubbed her eyes sleepily. Pearl tuned in her chair and looked at us with a smile. "Okay, I know I've been kind of moody these past few days. So here."

She tossed a small leather pouch between us that landed with a small clink. "I've been saving up some coins. Go get yourselves a dress for the wedding, okay?"

That was as good of an apology as we were going to get from her. Echo lit up and grabbed the money excitedly.

"Any one we want?" she asked eagerly. Pearl pressed her finger to her lips and pointed to the sleeping Stephen. Echo closed her lips and sat up straight, trying to restrain her excitement.

"It has to be white, that's my only requirement. The rest is up to you," Pearl whispered. Echo squealed and jumped up, tugging on my hand. Okay, yes, I was a little excited. We each gave her a quick kiss on the cheek to say we forgave her and then skipped out of the house. The market was about a half mile from our hut, so we had to contain our excitement so that the peacekeepers wouldn't target us. They hated happiness.

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

I had finished all the Districts and was on my way to the Capitol. The train was humming beneath my feet as I stared out the window.

District Twelve made me feel hollowed out. District Eleven made me feel shallow. Ten made me feel welcome. Nine, like a monster. Eight, Seven, and Six made me feel unwanted. Five I felt charming. Three made me feel stupid. Two and One made me feel like the hero they love to hate, even admired. After all that I just felt tired. I wanted to go home and take go swimming, wash off some of this person I didn't know.

We arrived in the Capitol and I was greeted by a tall, thin man who introduced himself as Ivan Pliers. His hair was heavily gelled and combed back so the ends of it licked the back of his neck. One of his eyes were purple, the other was crimson. There were pale tattoos twisting up his neck into his face, stretching over his non-existent eye brows and corners of his lips. His skin was extremely pale and had an unsettling waxy quality to it. I didn't like him from the moment I saw him.

"I'm going to be joining you these next few days," he told me, "and have twenty-four-seven access to your house and phone number. We're going to get to know each other very well."

I raised my eyebrow at him but didn't ask questions. I couldn't imagine what he would want with me. I was relieved when Garcia entered the train car, only glancing at Ivan for a second. Today her hair looked like a bird wing.

"You're going to be making some public appearances at parties the sponsors and gamemakers are holding," she chirped, holding out her clipboard, "the interview with Caesar will be in a week. Until then, you are at the mercy of the Capitol's night life." She smiled at me and then turned to Ivan. "Anything you'd like to add?"

Ivan shook his head, but when Garcia left he got in my face and talked in a low voice that made my skin crawl.

"There's going to be a girl at this first party named Lacy Templesmith. She's Claudius Templesmith's beloved niece. He's put in an order that you pay her some…special attention."

I looked at him incredulously, "Like what?"

His eyes sparkled and he told me, "You're going to be here for a week. You're going to make that week the most memorable one of her young life."

I shook my head, "No way does that work. What happens when I leave?"

"Don't worry about that. You're a bragging right, arm candy. It doesn't matter how it ends, just that it happens. Got it?"

I looked at him and nodded slowly. Okay, so they weren't asking a lot. I flirt with a loved one of a big-name in the Capitol, it's just like what I did after I won the games only drawn out over a few days. No big deal.

A new team came in to make me pretty. I was dressed in a black formal shirt and pants with shiny shoes. They pinned a gold rose to my chest and said it was the theme of the party. As a second thought, they sprits me with some cologne they described as 'mouthwatering' and left me to my own devices. I stared at the mirror and fixed my hair, wondering how the stylists here always managed to make me look like some older, more charming version of myself.

_Knock, knock, knock._

"Finnnnick, it's time to go cupcake," Garcia sang through the door. I sighed and obeyed, joining her and Mags at the door. They were both dressed in black—Mags' was much more conservative and traditional—with gold accents and jewelry. Garcia's eyelashes actually flicked off gold sparkles whenever she blinked.

"Those are lovely," I told her, leaning in close so I could get a better look. She blushed and batted her eyes at me.

"Why, thank you."

Ivan, my new best friend, arrived in all black with a special gold badge on his chest to let everyone know how important he was. We were escorted by peacekeepers off the train and then swept into a long, shiny black car with fancy drinks and fruits on toothpicks waiting for us on the velvety seats. Inside was a small group of victors from previous games. The two most striking were Cashmere and Gloss, a set of twins that won two consecutive games. I think Gloss won the Sixtieth, and Cashmere and Sixty-First. They were classically beautiful with blonde ringlets and beautiful eyes. They were still pretty young, anywhere from sixteen to eighteen. There was someone else there too, a kind looking woman named Cecelia who looked to be in her mid twenties. It was strange, being included in their group. I'd seen their games, how they won. I watched them kill and slaughter. And now we were sipping sparkling drinks in a car going to a party together.

We pulled up in front of a large mansion with music pouring out of its every orifice. I gawked at the shiny black walls with gold streaks; even the garden matched the theme. The others victors laughed at me and went inside, knowing exactly what they were doing. Garcia gave me a gentle nudge for the door. I obliged, making sure my back was nice and straight and my smile on. When I walked in I was greeted by delighted screams and the flashes of a thousand cameras. I grinned widely at them and waved, nodding my head towards the particularly loud enthusiasts. Ivan stayed true to his promise to accompany me and stayed glued to my hip all the way to the buffet.

"That's her, over there," he told me, pointing subtly to a girl across the way. She had a thousand ringlet girls of various shades of blonde and gems imbedded in her skin from the back of her ears to the end of her pointer fingers. Her eyes seemed to glow unnaturally in the low light and her lips shone gold. Her dress cinched her waist in to an impossible size that made me cringe. I couldn't tell if she was pretty, I could barely even tell she was a real human.

"How old is she?" I hissed, covering our conversation by offering him a block of cheese.

"She's fifteen, not that it matters."

I nodded and turned to find Claudius Templesmith in all his toady glory beaming at me.

"Oh, hello. Wonderful party," I managed to say, shaking his hand.

"Oh thank you, boy. Thank you. Excellent show in the arena, by the way. It was most…entertaining."

I nodded my thanks and glanced over at Lacy. "That's your niece there?"

His eyes flashed and he smiled, "Yes, yes that is. She's my pride and joy."

"Well then," I start to walk away, "if she's that special, I'll go and say hello."

I dove into the crowd, trying to avoid talking to anyone else. After a few passing comments, I reached Lacy. She was picking at some crab meat on her plate, so I came up behind her while she was distracted. "You know, I think I caught that crab."

She starts and turns around, flabbergasted. I peer at her through my eyelashes and give her a melting smile. She takes a moment to calm down and then takes on what I can only assume is supposed to be a flirtatious stance and bats her eyelashes at me.

"Hello, Mr. Odair."

"Please, call me Finnick." I kiss her hand slowly, the way I've seen the other men in the room greet women only…slower. She blushes.

"I'm Lacy Templesmith," she tells me.

"So I've heard. Claudius's favorite niece." She cocks her head to the side and smiles.

"That's me."

The music stuck up a peppy tune, so I reach for her hand, "Would you like to dance?" She giggles girlishly and lets me lead her to the dance floor.

Okay, so I didn't know how to do the traditional dances here in the Capitol. I decided it'd add more mystery and allure if I stuck to my own element, holding her hand and waist gently and swaying us around the floor, weaving through the other couples like they weren't there. She followed easily, completely trusting my skills to guide her. I wanted to warn her not to put so much faith in my dancing, but decided against it. People were staring at us, whispering and taking pictures. Lacy radiated with joy.

All through the night I was introduced to people, congratulated, and stuffed with food until I felt sick. I made sure to make time for Lacy whenever possible. At the end I was shaking hands with everyone and kissed her on the cheek before climbing in the limo with the rest of the tributes. Okay, not all of them. Cashmere didn't come back at all, and Gloss returned drunk with lipstick all over his neck. Cecelia sat quietly and looked out the window, longing to be anywhere else. Ivan and Garcia sat down on either side of me, chattering formally about how splendid the affair was. Garcia seemed much more engrossed in the finery than he was.

"How did I do?" I asked Ivan.

He cocked an eyebrow at me, "Whatever do you mean?"

I opened my mouth to explain, but a shadow hit his eyes that shut me up.

"You did splendidly, honey. All the guests were very pleased with how you conducted yourself," Garcia chattered. It's always a gift when someone's oblivious enough to cover for you without their even knowing it, "And we all saw you taking an interest in that Lacy Templesmith. She is a lovely young girl, isn't she?"

I looked at her, but the way she said it told me she wasn't aware I was assigned to do that. I just smiled and threw her a wink, "You know me. Can't resist a pretty girl."

Gloss scoffed and swayed drunkenly, jabbing Cecelia in the arm. She brushed him off and continued to stare out the window. Something inside of my felt like it was hollowing out, but I pushed it away. When we were dropped off at my flat, Ivan and I finally got that alone time we needed.

"So, how did I do for real?"

Igor patted my shoulder patronizingly, "Well enough. She'll be at the luncheon tomorrow; I suggest you to ask her to be your date to the ball in the evening."

I laughed, "By 'suggest' I'm guessing you're not really suggesting anything."

Ivan bit his lip and then grinned, "No, I'm not."

That night, in my dreams, I sat against a wall while Celeste sat in front of me and screamed, "Prostitute! PROSTITUTE!" all night long.

There was no way to have known how right she was.


	14. Chapter 14

_Hey guys I'd just like to thank you for all the comments and support! Every review inspires and pushes me to keep writing (I'm practically making this up as I go along minus some minor planning), so I just thought you all should know I appreciate and thrive off of it! Happy reading!_

**14**

**Destruction, Building, and Rebuilding**

"He's been with her all week!" Echo cried, urging me to understand. I rolled my eyes and pulled my hand away.

"I don't _care_ Echo, do you get it?"

For the past three days apparently Finnick's been dating some weird girl in the Capitol, it's been all the rage in the gossip chain and television. He's been so charming, so deliciously delightful, so handsome, so personable, on and on and on. And now he's been so into this girl Lacy Templesmith. I had never seen her before, but she looked rich. I couldn't imagine what Fin was doing with her.

The next day they were on screen and he had his hand on her waist. The day after there was a secret picture of them kissing. Then a video surfaced of them making out behind a club. I finally ended up chucking my wedding project at the screen and shouting. Echo and Pearl were sitting at the table, a bemused expression crossing their faces.

"What's wrong Annie?" Pearl asked innocently, "Don't like watching your _friend_ play tongue twister with a Capitol girl?"

I stuttered a few times trying to come up with something witty, but I got nothing. "Be quiet, it's not like that!" Is all I could manage. Pearl laughed and gave me a good natured pat on the shoulder.

"Don't worry honey, these feelings pass. All part of growing up."

I left the house in a huff. What was wrong with Finnick? Or maybe what's wrong with me?

_Maybe I was wrong about him this whole time. Maybe he is a shallow, womanizing jerk._

After kicking some sand around on the beach and chucking some rocks into the waves, I stormed back inside and pointed my finger directly at Pearl's chest.

"I don't want Finnick at the wedding," I demanded.

"No!"

"Be quiet Echo," I spat, "I don't want him there and that's final!"

Pearl waved her hands and scribbled something on her omnipresent list. "Consider it done." Echo's face got red and she jumped to her feet.

"You're MEAN Annie! Just because Finnick has a girlfriend and you're all jealous doesn't mean he can't come to the wedding!"

I folded my arms and looked away, "He's _my_ friend, so it's _my _decision."

She stamped her foot, "YOU SAID YOU WEREN'T FRIENDS!"

"Echo, lower your voi—"

"HE'S MORE MY FRIEND THAN YOURS!" I shouted back.

"GIRLS!" Pearl barked, "_Lower_ your _voices._"

I felt stupid, arguing with a little girl. Echo started crying angrily and turned to face Pearl, "I want him to come."

She smiled and lifted Echo onto her lap, pointing to the list, "Well Finnick is Annie's only guest so far. And _you_ have three. So she gets a say in this."

I resisted the temptation to stick out my tongue at her and left the house, quieter this time. I decided to go to Victor's Village and visit with Finnick's mother, who I'm sure was getting lonely with her son out of the house again. But as I was walking past the square, I noticed a commotion going on near the Justice Building. Peacekeepers and people were swarming to this one area, crying out unintelligible things and flailing their limbs about. I crept closer, trying to see what was going on.

"He didn't _mean_ to take them, he just brought home the wrong package," a middle-aged woman was pleading. She was on her knees in the middle of the circle with her arms around a young boy, probably nine years old. Judging by his blue shirt, he was one of the kids who delivered the rare fish to the Peacekeepers to be specially packaged. A brown paper package was torn open in front of him with large Turbot fish inside.

_Oh, no._

Turbots were the most expensive fish possible because we had to travel so impossibly far to obtain them. The penalty for stealing one of these delicacies is unimaginable.

"He's a thief!" one of the Peacekeepers shouted, "The punishment is death."

Many in the crowd roared something about a trial and how there has to be a trial. The boy looked up from his hands and found me with his goldfish eyes and I couldn't help but feel weak at the knees. This poor boy was going to die over a fish.

"MOVE GIRL!" someone hollered in my face. I looked up into the bloodshot eyes of a very tall, very intimidating peacekeeper with a very large gun. I don't know what came over me, but I started to cry. The man sighed in exasperation and shoved me so that I sat there in on the cobblestone while they dragged the boy to the small courtroom on the left of the Justice Building. I covered my face in humiliation and just kept crying because it was awful, it was all so awful.

"Annie?"

Stephen scooped me up into his arms and carried me off to the side where I wasn't in the way. He sat me down on some steps and gently coaxed me out of my hands. "What's wrong?"

I shook my head because I was embarrassed. Other people didn't cry about stuff like this, it happened every day. "That boy," I said in a gurgled, spastic voice, "is going to d-die bec-ause of that s…stupid fish."

Stephen cocked an eyebrow and tucked my hair behind my ear. "Annie, it's okay. It happens sometimes, when people steal. It's part of the way we live."

I took a few deep breaths and tried to compose myself. I decided I liked Stephen for Pearl, he balanced her out nicely. She was strong and a survivor with rough—though beautiful—edges. He was an earnest, nurturing man who didn't let Pearl consume him. A good match. Plus it was nice to have him around when I cried so that I wouldn't have to hear Pearl's tough love speech.

"You good now?" he asked with a hopeful laugh in his voice. I wiped my eyes and forced a smile for him.

"Sure. Yes, I am."

"Good." He roughed my hair and stood, pulling me up with him. "Help me pick out a wedding band for your sister?"

My heart leapt with excitement and I nodded, walking fast to keep up with his long-legged strides. For now, shiny precious rings would keep my mind off the evident death of the boy. And the less severe—though no less constant—thoughts about Finnick with his body tangled up in the arms of a mutated freak of a rich girl.

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

Well, there goes my first kiss.

I don't know what made me do it, but there in the middle of the dance floor with the beaming lights and raining glitter, it seemed like I had to kiss her. If I didn't, my whole image would be ruined and my next stop would be a surgeon to get Ivan's foot extracted from my ass. She was dancing so smoothly, looked up at me, and winked. My heart was thudding against the confines of my chest like a wild animal, trying to get loose. My mind was blank…I had no charming, witty things to say…so I planted my lips on hers and held them there until she had to back away for air.

And now the tabloids were tripping over themselves to get pictures. Lacy was so happy with the attention I think she actually had tears in her eyes as we stepped outside into the strobe light of camera flashes. Or maybe it was that that caused her eyes to water, what did I know?

"You're a very good kisser," she purred. We were somewhat alone now. It was the day after I kissed her and now we were at the next mindless event, behind the club. She was leaned casually against the wall, arching her back so that her assets were closer to my face than her nose.

_Be sensual Fin, you can do it. This doesn't have to go on much longer._

"You too," I said back, trying to get that thick, honey sound to my voice. I put my hands on the wall so that her head was in a cage of my arms. It made me look much taller, much bigger than she was. And what I'd learned about my short rendezvous with Lacy Templesmith was that she liked a little intimidation. "What _is_ that stuff you put on her lips to make them so…" I brushed my own lips just under hers, "_delicious?"_

She giggled and then kissed me full on the mouth.

_Easy now, it's just last night. Don't panic._

I put my fingers in her hair and kissed her back, pressing our bodies against the wall. Hers felt sharp and weird because her dress was made of plates of leather and metal that jutted out in strategic places. I didn't like the feeling; it was like kissing a demented streetlamp. And the most innocent part of me was crying because—quite honestly—I never imagined my first kiss to be with a complete stranger that I was coerced into dating.

Her tongue slipped past my lips and I pulled back—too sharply. Her face looked dumbstruck up at me. "What?"

I didn't know what to say. I wasn't prepared for this at all. I'd barely started using my lips correctly and now she was amping up the heat? "You…surprised me." Well, I tried to say it sensually.

She just shook her head, grabbed my hair roughly and pulled me back to her. I couldn't stop the attack, even when her tongue got involved. So…I tried it. I did the best I could when being put on the spot like that. She kept kissing so I was guessed I was doing something right. After about a minute my mind started tuning out and I couldn't help but note that tonight her lips tasted like coconut.

She finally breeched, gasping for hair but still clinging on to me so I couldn't get away. "You're a natural," she whispered. I winked at her because I still had no words. Maybe she ate them, right off my tongue?

"I have a gift for you," she said, reaching into some hidden pocket, "Here."

She plopped a thick, gold bracelet with rare gemstones into my hand. I stared at it, not sure what was going on. "What's this for?" I asked, holding it out. She pursed her lips, looked at me suspiciously, and then shrugged.

"Something to remember me by."

I examined it, holding it up to the light above us so that it sparkled like a hand-held star.

"It's beautiful," I commented, bringing it down and putting it in my pocket. "But nothing compared to you."

_Smooth._

Once I got used to the odd, invasive feeling of her tongue, I actually sort of enjoyed this kind of kiss. I wished it was with a girl who smelled like salt water and not—what was it?—_Midnight's Delightful Symphony—_and who's lips didn't leave a film of gloss on my own. But with my eyes closed I could imagine. I could pretend it was anyone there with me, even though I had no one specific in mind. I thought of Annie's sister Pearl once and enjoyed that. I thought of my pretty friend, Dawn, but felt strange doing that. I even tried Celeste and Marina.

Those two were no good.

For the most part I just made up someone ideal, someone beautiful with all the features of a perfect girl. It was nice kissing her, and not the mangled remains of a human that I was.

"Come on," I said once I was able to break away, "let's go back to the party."

After that the week filled itself out easily enough. I did my interview with Caesar without a hitch, played the crowd like a violin, and then said a quick, slobbery good-bye to Lacy before hopping the train home. Ivan was waiting for me in the dining car, sporting a thick pair of glasses that looked wildly out of place on his thin, pointy nose.

"Excellent work," he mused, "exactly what we were expecting."

"What do you mean?" The way he was looking at me…it made my skin crawl.

He shifted his papers and put down his glasses with a smile, "The day you came out of the arena, President Snow knew you would be a little goldmine. And look how well you've done on your first assignment. Most impressive."

I balled up my fist in frustration, "_What are you talking about_?"

He chuckled coldly and stood, shaking me hand.

"We'll be in contact soon enough, Mr. Odair."

I didn't see him again for the rest of the ride home, but I felt as slimy as his ridiculous hair. Here, away from all the intoxicating lights and smells and music, I saw what just happened clearly, and it made me sick with myself. Why didn't I fight it more? I should never have portrayed myself like that. And the way Ivan was talking…I just felt like I was getting pulled into something invisible with no choice in the matter. Like swimming as a child and not realizing how far the current pulled you out until you're too tired to swim anymore.

Mags didn't say anything about the matter, rather treated it as if it never happened. I bet if I asked her something, if I tried to talk about it with her, she would. But I didn't. It was only a kiss, anyway. And I had gotten the chance to meet a ton of previous victors and make some good acquaintances. So it wasn't all bad.

To make matters worse, the return to the Capitol had done a number on my nightmares. They were more vivid, disturbing, and realistic than ever before. Three nights on the train, tossing and turning, and I was ready to get home and find my dinky little boat.

We reached District Four and released to the precious, open air. I gave the glitzy bracelet to my mother because honestly, I had no use for it. Then I staggered out to the shore, trying to find something—_anything_—to keep my mind off of my situation.

"You look tired," a girl's voice said.

_Ah, Annie. _

"Thanks," I mumbled, shuffling my feet.

"What's wrong? Did that girl from the Capitol tire you out?"

I turned to her in surprise, "What's with the venomous tone there, Annie?" She scowled at me and folded her arms.

"I can't believe you would act like that."

I sighed and shoved my hands in my pockets. Why did I even bother some times?

"I don't really want to talk about it."

Something in my voice must have triggered the kind, gentle Annie everyone always told me about, because next I knew she was gently tugging on my wrist. "Come on," she said, nodding her head over to her little grass bowl of shells, "I'll distract you."

I went willingly and sat down so that the bowl was in between us. A pile of string pieces was under the bowl so they wouldn't fly away. "What's this for?"

She held up a piece of string, found a crack in the shell, and laced it through. "They're strings of shells, for Pearl's wedding. Echo and I want to decorate the ceremony with them. Help me."

I took the string from her and started digging through the bowl, trying to find shells with holes. We sat in silence for a while, which was fine with me. The sound of the waves, the breeze, and keeping my hands busy helped me to relax.

Suddenly I was being gently shaken and the world came into view. I didn't understand. Why was it so late? Wasn't the sun just up?

"You fell asleep," Annie told me, sitting back on her heels.

"For how long?" I groaned, rubbing my eyes. She shrugged and gestured to the sky, "A few hours, I guess."

A row of lovely strung sea shells laid nearby, to which I had only contributed two of the fifteen. I felt guilty for falling asleep on her, but also mystified. It was my first calm, dreamless sleep since the arena.

"What's wrong?" Annie asked.

I laughed and stretched out my arms, "Absolutely nothing…for once." She smiled lightly and then stood, holding out her hand for me. "What?"

"Let's go for a swim," she said with a smile, "wake you up a bit."

I followed her to the water, pulling off my shirt and leaving it on the sand. She just went in with her dress on like most of the girls did. The water at this time of day was magnificent and the fish all seemed to be bustling about their watery lives with more vigor. The water was warm and weightless; all I had to do was lean back and I was flying.

It was during this time I realized why my mother and people around the village in general always remarked how gentle and pure Annie was. Under the water with her dark hair and white dress billowing around, she looked like some kind delicate ghost. Her skin was a little paler than most people of District Four, so it just furthered her peculiar look.

Under the waves, she would dive down into the depths and touch the coral reefs lightly as if afraid they would break. I think they would break her before she could ever hurt them. Fish didn't seem to swim away from her when she approached, but rather treated her with complete trust and indifference. They all darted away from me when I first arrived. I had no idea how she could be so…weightless. I guess I spent so much time letting myself be annoyed by Annie that I never stopped to see what others saw in her.

I could see it now.

When we got tired and climbed back to shore, I dried my face off on my shirt and planted a little kiss on her cheek. "Thank you Annie, I appreciate the distraction."

It was refreshing that the kiss—though just a friendly way of saying good-bye—didn't make her blush. She just nodded and gave me a smile before I took off for home. I didn't want my mother to get worried that I drowned or something of the sort.

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

I walked home with a small bounce in my step. I was soaked to the bone, but I didn't care. Finally, it seemed, Finnick considered me a friend. He was no good at making strings of seashells, but what he lacked in artistic expertise he made up for in company. Watching him swim was incredible; his movements were so powerful and full of purpose. And just as easily, he could close his eyes and float on his back as if he didn't have a care in the world.

I walked in the hut and set down my bowl, finding Pearl sitting on her mat.

"I want Finnick to come to the wedding," I said with an affirmative tone. She smiled at me and shook her head in exasperation.

"Oh Annie, you poor, frail thing."

I didn't know what she meant, nor did I care. For the rest of that month, Echo and I worked on Pearls wedding and also helped out at the fish market to fulfill our required hours for the peacekeepers. Finnick and I would hang out on occasion, when he was feeling upset or haunted by something. It felt nice to help him, because it seemed nobody else was going to. People were too caught up in his looks and his fame to see just how horrible it all was. Maybe one day he would actually trust me enough to tell me what was going on.

He had also agreed to come to Pearl's wedding, cracking some joke about how he wouldn't want to miss the event that would send half of the District's men into tears. I laughed but then realized _why_ Pearl was spending so much time agonizing over the guest list. We wouldn't want anyone objecting at the ceremony.

The night before the big day, Echo and I snuck out to the ceremony spot on the beach; a scenic little lagoon with two palm trees that worked for the arch. We pulled out our baskets of strung shells and draped them everywhere until the whole area looked decorated. With the candles lit, it would be beautiful.

"Good _morning _girls!" Pearl hollered, springing up to her feet. Echo and I had barely gone back to sleep before she woke us up at the crack of dawn. "Time to get ready!"

We crawled around groggily, trying to make sense of time and day while Pearl did circles around us. Apparently there were things to do, like check on the cake and the fiddler. I just left it up to her to worry about.

Once the sun had fully risen and my eyes stopped aching, I started to get excited. It looked like it was going to be a beautiful day. The fiddler and his musical friends stopped by just to let her know they were ready. The official from the Justice Building came, but we directed him to Stephens house so that the proper papers would be finished. Echo and I coaxed food into Pearl because she claimed she was too nervous to eat. I think she checked on the dresses four times just that morning.

"Pearl, relax, it's going to be beautiful," Echo said in a voice still dreamy with fatigue. Stephen stopped in with a worried expression on his face. Pearl was on her feet immediately.

"What? _What?_ What is it?"

He smiled and shook his head, "Relax, I was just stopping in to check on everyone. Make sure the sisters were still alive." He threw us a wink.

"She's been pretty tame this morning," I assured him, "but we're bordering on a heart attack or stroke."

He smiled and wrapped his arms around an indignant Pearl, "It's okay, I know Cardiopulmonary resuscitation."

We had to wait until the afternoon to get ready because the ceremony was going to start at sunset. Stephen left us to be our own devices. A few of Pearl's friends and Stephen's mother arrived, chilling outside or helping keep the bride in a healthy heart rate. Stephen's mother did look richer than us, but she seemed nice enough, if only a little uncomfortable in such a small, undecorated hut. She had pearls—ironic—around her neck, but her dress didn't seem amazingly expensive. Just…nice.

"Time to get dressed," Pearl told us. Echo and I were happy to oblige her on this point, we were excited to show off our new dresses. They'd been sitting in the makeshift armoire for nearly a month, calling our names. It was almost painful to have something new and pretty and not be able to wear it. Mine was knee-length, eggshell blue with white trim and a tie around the waist. Pearl gave her blessing on it because the trim was white. Echo adhered to the rules and bought a cute all white dress with a little bit of lace and a white flower on her shoulder. She looked like a tiny angel.

"You girls look beautiful," Stephen's mother told us. I just learned her name was Vienna.

"Thanks."

I picked up Pearl's dress from the drawer and held it out to her, "Time for _you_ to get dressed."

I never saw her as the bride-type. She was young and didn't like to be trapped into something if she didn't have to be. I was worried that the dress would look out of place on her, a walking contradiction. But I was wrong. Her gown was made of billowy, gossamer fabric in a creamy white that draped and folded over her figure flawlessly, gracefully caressing the ground with each step she took. It seemed to make her whole foundation radiate, as if she wasn't beautiful enough as it is. Echo's mouth hung wide open as Pearl smiled at the room.

"You guys like it?" she asked with a twinge of excitement in her voice. Vienna stood with tears in her eyes and kissed her on the cheek.

"You're absolutely stunning, Honey. My son's a very lucky man."

Pearl blushed and gave her a tiny but sincere hug. Vienna reached into her bag and pulled out a box, looking a little nervous.

"This is a family heirloom, passed down for four generations now. So, now it's yours." She pulled out a simple but elegant pearl necklace from the box, the light catching it beautifully. "I thought that it was appropriate. Pearls for Stephen's Pearl."

For the first time in my life I think Pearl was about to cry as she let the woman fasten the necklace around her neck.

"Thank you," she said quietly, feeling it in disbelief. After that we let Pearl do our hair back in a heap of braids and twists and curls. Hers was so glossy and perfectly waved that all we did was pin half of it back and secured a traditional crown of orchids.

Everything started moving in a blur. The guests all arrived, the music was playing. Stephen and Pearl were the vision of beauty under the arch strung with shells. The sun was setting and the weather was perfect. Finnick had arrived in the traditional white-and-blue palette of District Four weddings. The girls at the ceremony couldn't stop looking at him. The net was draped around the couple's shoulder as the vows were read and repeated. They signed the official papers needed for the Justice Building. Stephen gave her the wedding band we bought in the square. Then they touched salt water to each other's lips and finally kissed. We applauded, she looked happy, he looked happy. For the young men in the audience it was a bittersweet moment. I clapped until my hands were numb.

The cake was cut and the guests were dancing. Pearl and Stephen never seemed to sit down, whirling around in their happiness. The girls wouldn't let Finnick rest until finally he plopped down in a chair next to me, wiping sweat from his forehead.

"Great wedding," he panted. I smiled and took a bite of my cake. We never had such a delicacy, but I think I took a little bit more than I could handle. Finnick looked down and noticed it sitting on my plate. "Is the cake good?" I nodded. "Then why do you look like that?"

I shook my head and pushed the plate to the end of my lap, "I can't eat another bite."

He grinned and snatched if from me, diving right in without bothering to use a fork. "I haven't gotten a chance to have a piece yet," he explained through a full mouth. I laughed and wiped the crumbs he showered on me off on his pants. When the cake was finished, he stood up and offered me his hand.

"Dance?"

I nodded and took his hand, diving into the dance floor while the guests all hopped around to the traditional dance to the old sea shanty. The fiddler was in perfect time with his friends, picking up the pace with each repeat until we were all spinning, kicking, and jumping so fast that many got dizzy and had to sit out. It was one of those dances where you go down the line, getting tossed around by various partners until your eyes crossed. But somehow through the chaos, Finnick still emerged from the thick to dip me on the final beat. We laughed and clapped for the wonderful music, making the fiddler blush and take an awkward bow.

"I have to go now, Annie. But thanks for everything, you're a good friend," Finnick said, pecking me on the cheek. He walked over, congratulated the happy couple and left a small gift on the table before disappearing into the darkness.

At last, Stephen took a break from his new wife for a moment to invite me to dance with him, a sweet little melody about the sea humming in the background. He was all smiles and starry eyed.

"You're really happy, aren't you?" I asked, making sure I was in step with him.

"Of course I am," he laughed, "Don't worry Annie, I can take the heat."

I bit my lip and raised my eyebrows at him, "How will you two get any sleep with the racket the men are going to make, sobbing on your doorstep?"

He looked thoughtful for a moment, "How long do you think that will last?"

"A month, at least."

He shrugged and spun me around in a circle, "It's okay. I've got a dog. Besides, it doesn't matter to me who looks at your sister or even if she looks back. So let them howl."

That actually confused me, so I asked, "You're saying you'll never get jealous?"

He shrugged again and his eyes twinkled, "It doesn't matter. All those guys out there can do or say whatever they want, but she chose to marry _me_. So as far as I'm concerned, I'll always have the upper hand."

"How noble of you," I gushed, bowing dramatically with my head. He chuckled and then spun me out so that Echo could take my place. At nine she was a good deal shorter than him, so he planted her feet on top of his and danced for her, causing her to emit a loud string of giggles. Pearl was watching them with a light smile on her lips.

"Are you having fun?" she asked me. Her hair was disheveled with all the dancing and her forehead was shining with sweat, and she still stole the room. I nodded and planted a kiss on her cheek.

"I hope you're happy with this, Pearl."

She looked at me and smiled, "I am."

Then why couldn't I believe her?

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It was three days after I'd attended Pearl's wedding. After the dance with Annie, I was called and told I was going to be a mentor for the next Hunger Games. The thought made me a little sick, and as a result I've been digressing. Nightmares followed me anywhere and I felt slimy again. So many kids dead at my hands…

I had a trident and was standing knee-deep in a lagoon. I channeled my energy like I did when approaching Goren so that the fish would forget my presence and swim close. It forced me to clear my head, to focus on something familiar. I felt the brush of a fish on my leg, and struck down. Three fish. One, two…and three. I caught each of them and whipped them out of the water. Maybe I would take them to the market or maybe I would just give it to someone. It wasn't the catch—I had enough money to feed myself five course meals for the rest of my life—but the process that was important.

"Finnick, where have you been?" Annie asked from behind me. I turned to see her standing on shore and was reminded vaguely of the scene on the beach right before the Reaping.

"Out and about," I shrugged, dropping my fish into the basket.

"You look exhausted."

I sighed and looked at her, annoyed. "What do you want me to do, Annie? Wear makeup or something? Hide my face?"

Okay, I didn't mean to be so harsh.

"Sorry."

She waved it away simply, as if it never happened. "Do you have a lot of trouble still? Coping with what happened in the arena?"

The question was so random it caught me off guard. I stared at her for a moment and then sighed, "Yes. I can't sleep. I have to mentor this year."

She looked at me with pity in her eyes, "I'm sorry."

"Not your fault."

"It's not yours either," she reminded me. "Do you have nightmares?"

I frowned, "Vivid ones."

"And how do you feel about yourself?"

I laughed but not because it was funny, "I don't know Annie. I feel like the lowest scum on earth, how's that?" She reached out, took my hand and then starting pulling me away. "What are you doing?"

"We're going to go help some people," she said curtly. "It'll help you feel better about yourself. I do it whenever I can. While you were in the arena, I went to visit your mother a lot. Before that I would go to the slums and clean up or play with the kids."

"Really?"

She smiled and nodded, letting go of my hand when she was sure I was following her. "I told you, it builds, or in your case _rebuilds_, self-esteem. And it's…distracting." Well that's all I needed. We started walking and she added, "Bring the fish."

I spent the day with Annie fixing a grass roof over a ramshackle hut that contained a five person family. I did most of the work, but she got the materials and chatted with the family. She also taught the kids a game they could play in the sand with pebbles and shells while I sat and watched, trying to pick it up. She told me that she and her sisters had invented it. We gave out the fish to an elderly couple for supper. When the day was coming to a close, I walked her back to her new house. It was bigger than her last one, but still relatively conservative. And it was still near her beach.

"Thanks for today. You're the best friend I could ask for," I told her, standing on the doorstep. Some people from school walked by and waved to me, so I waved back and then turned my attention back to Annie. She seemed to be trying to figure something out.

"Of course," she finally said, "We can do it any day you wish. You know where to find me."

With that she went inside and I was left to walk back home by myself. It's true, I was sweaty, smelly, and covered in dirt; but for the longest time, I'd never felt cleaner.


	15. Chapter 15

_Wow that had a lot of errors in it. Okay this chapter is all fixed up and ready for viewing. WARNING though, it gets kind of uncomfortably graphic. Just thought I'd throw that out there. Happy reading!_

**15**

**Estelle Panzarella**

_Has it really been a year already? _

The entire District was shuffling its way to the Justice Building while peacekeepers paced around like hungry sharks. I was immune this year, so technically I had nothing to worry about. But I still had my friends in the audience. What if someone like Brye or Crest was reaped? I would have to mentor them. There's no way I could handle something like that, even with another mentor by my side.

This year they gave Mags a break in favor of a girl named Coral who was apparently very handy with swaying sponsors. I was basically supposed to piggyback on her for these games so I get the gist for other years. She seemed nice enough, though put off for having to go this year. People said she won her games by hiding underwater and then shooting poison darts at opponents trying to get a drink.

I was sitting in a special row of chairs they put out for victors in front of the stage. The whole thing gave me the creeps, watching the kids sign in and stand in their sections. I felt like I was standing with them again, thinking I wouldn't be called, there was no way I'd be called, and then hearing my name. Two kids out there were going to feel their hearts turn to ice and the floor dropping underneath them. I felt so nervous, almost as if I didn't believe I was safe. A small part inside of me was terrified my name was still in that bowl and that I'd have to go back again. Garcia's voice was echoing in my ears;

"_Finnick Odair…Finnick Odair…"_

"Relax kiddo or you'll make yourself sick," Tristan grumbled to me in a half-covered whisper. All the other victors had such impeccable masks over their expressions. Even Mags looked a little disinterested in the whole affair. I wondered what I must look like in comparison.

The anthem and the video played, reminding us why we were here and why we were slaves. I found Annie in the audience and waved hello. She was wearing a new dress, I guessed it was a hand-down from Vienna judging by the pale purple. This year, instead of crying and throwing a fit, Annie was comforting other kids around her. I was proud of her for that.

I found Brye, Dawn, Crest, and Martin in their groups and waved to them too, giving the girls encouraging winks. I guess since I got reaped last year, their sense of invincibility was completely demolished. Like Annie said last year, everyone thinks it won't be them, but it has to be someone.

Garcia was all flamboyancy and giddiness this year, wearing some eye-burning shade of pink with silver fans poking out of all the folds. Every year she seemed to style herself after a fish, though to what purpose I had to wonder…

_You know, we skewer fish here, Garcia. _

"Ladies and gentleman, we will now pull the names of the new tributes for this year's Sixty-Sixth Hunger Games!...Ladies first."

_Of course._

"Meredith Seabourn."

A small, skinny girl with brown hair took the stage after a long, drawn out walk to the microphone. Lucky for her, we had four volunteers this year.

_Wait, four?_

Sheldon gave a spastic, wheezy chuckle beside me. Tristan punched his leg, which just made him laugh harder and wheeze vigorously. "What?" I hissed, slapping his back to help his breathing.

"I can't help but wonder," he gasped through watering eyes, "exactly _what_ is inspiring the ladies this year?"

I was concerned with the purple tint leaking into his face, "What do you mean?"

He blinked at me and kept wheezing until eventually he had to be led away to receive some sort of inhaler. "Don't look so nonplussed," an old victor said gruffly, pushing my shoulder. I think his name was Crabbe, "It's not like you can control the way you look anyway, just born as such. Too bad."

And then I realized what they were saying.

_These girls are volunteering…to get to me?_

No, that's not right. Girls don't go to the death just to be around a celebrity for a few days. They don't, of course they don't. But…if they were considering volunteering, it could be something to give them that extra push.

I felt sick.

For the past few months, Annie, my friends, and my parents have been working on rebuilding me. My mother still cooks meals even though we can afford a chef to keep some 'normalcy', therefore I am still asked to gut the fish. My father takes me out on the ship every once in a while or has me help pull in the catch. My friends forced me to go out, play games, go swimming. They didn't help much, they'd always been a little weak when it came to emotional situations. That's why they never visited me before the Games last year. Annie, of course, is helping me in all the ways that used to annoy me. She holds me accountable when I get too cocky and takes me to help other people in the poorer ends of the District. She cares just because it's her nature, which I found to be refreshing in a friend.

But now, sitting in this chair, I felt the new walls I had been building up coming back down. Would I have the blood of one of these girls on my hands as well?

Finally one was selected, a tall, muscular girl with dark skin and a complicated pattern of braids laced over her head. Her name was Dinzil Oceanara. She didn't look the type who would enter the games for a boy, so I felt better. In an odd sort of way at least.

The boys had an unusual amount of volunteers this year as well. I leaned over to Crabbe and nudged his arm with my elbow, "Am I to blame for this as well?"

I meant for it to sort of be funny, but he just shrugged and said, "After all the glory they saw you get when you won? It's very possible."

_Well…then._

At least my friends were safe. The boy selected was Jonas Harper, another tall and muscular young adult with a set jaw and narrow eyes. I was brought to the train along with the tributes, Garcia, and Coral. I didn't even get to say good-bye to anybody, but I guess it was unlikely I wouldn't be alive at the end of these particular games, so there was no need.

Still…

Aboard the train, I sat awkwardly next to Coral and tried to give advice. The two seemed alert, focused, ready to absorb anything we said. I found myself just echoing Annie the year before; don't eat anything if you don't know what it is, find water, and get sponsors. Only I added another thing, which is to not trust anyone. And try really hard not to get attached to any opponents or even learn their names if you can help it. They seemed like cold enough individuals that this wouldn't be a problem.

There was no crying or need to coddle anyone on this train ride—both of them were ironically older than I was anyway—which made me feel a little weak in retrospect. But who cares, I won.

It was the last night of travelling until we reached the Capitol. Everyone was in bed, so I snuck into the Dining Cart for a midnight snack. Just as the first bite of cream puff passed my lips, a voice spoke behind me.

"Mr. Odair, good to see you again."

I choked and spun around to find Ivan standing there with a darkly amused expression on his face. How did he get in here anyway, if we never stopped? "You've got a little something on your face."

My heart was hammering against my chest, but I forced myself to lift my arm and wipe the excessive amount of crumbs and whipped cream from my mouth. Embarrassing? Yes, but I was a little more concerned with the presence of Ivan to worry about it.

"You startled me," I hissed, trying to slow my heart rate, "What do you want?"

"I have your next assignment," he answered as if he had no idea why I sounded so accusing.

"Well then don't be shy, spit it out."

"Estelle Panzarella," he said, handing me a photograph, "she's President Snow's good acquaintance's niece, though the exact relation is a mystery to me."

I looked down at the photo, a pale girl with luscious dark hair and fat lips. Her eyes were brown and she had a long, graceful neck. She looked more normal than Lacy did, at least by my standards. But also older, probably around seventeen.

"And why do I have to go out with her?"

Ivan's lips twisted, "Well, I wouldn't call it that. Estelle is a little bit more…educated, I guess, in the way these things work. She's solely interested in a few pictures and then alone time with you. It's a reward for her splendid work on an artistic billboard for the President Snow campaign."

"I didn't know there was a campaign."

"Technically there is, though rarely anyone tries to challenge Snow's bravura leadership."

I raised an eyebrow but then tucked the photo into my pocket. "How long is this going to go on for? I could just refuse, y'know. Then where would you be?"

Ivan's eyes twinkled and he tapped my chin, "But you won't refuse."

He left, and I didn't have the mind to follow him.

I didn't get to spend a lot of time with my Tributes in the Training Center. The first day they were sent off to be dressed for the opening ceremonies, so I was whisked off to a sponsor's event.

_This is your chance to help out Dinzil and Jonas. Work these people for their last dimes._

I like to think I did too. I flirted, danced, flirted some more, and bought drinks for those too shy to flirt and dance. At the end of the night three had already mentioned they'd sponsor my kids if only to get the chance to go the celebratory feast to see me. I guess I really was _that_ good.

The other tributes this year seemed normal enough. Dinzil and Jonas joined with the Careers the first day, which I didn't bother saying anything about. There was some easy kills in Eleven and Twelve, especially this weepy, coward of a girl from Seven. Jonie or Johanna or something like that.

I soon realized my role wasn't even to advise my two Tributes, they didn't seem to want my help. I was sent over to appear at parties and take pictures while Coral took care of the logistics. I felt sort of useless, but then again, I'd probably be just as useless at paperwork and number crunching. Here, in the crowds, I could pull money from people, earn support for my tributes. All I knew about surviving I had done in the arena, so as long as they watched my games, they knew everything I was going to tell them. My job here was to be a talking puppet.

Both of my kids scored an eight in their private sessions with the gamemakers. So they pulled me out of the extravagant parties the next day to counsel the two in one of my strongest attributes, charming the audience.

I like to think that wasn't all I was good for. I was really good with a trident, in fact my victory last year had sparked a fashion trend in the Capitol citizens. More than one woman had on a gold necklace with a trident hanging off of the chain. Men gelled their hair up into three prongs. Bizarre, yet flattering. Also, I could weave just about anything from grass, whether it be a bowl or a net or a basket. I could make traps, restart a heart, lift heavy objects, fight hand-on-hand. Yes, I was worth a lot more than my face.

"The trick is," I told them, "is to be yourself. But more than that, you have to allude to the audience that you're giving them all you got, yet there's something more hidden within. It intrigues them."

With Coral's help, we created an image of Dinzil as a tough, keep-no-prisoners young woman who broke the hearts of many men back home and wanted to win so that she could provide her sister back home with a surgery needed to repair her leg. It was a bit of an exaggeration; her sister did need an operation, but her family had enough money to pay for it if necessary. Jonas was an ox of a boy who was not only strong but smart. He wanted to win to glorify his District. A classic approach, but it was a crowd pleaser nonetheless.

The audience enjoyed them, as well as a few other rising stars in One, Two, and even Three. The kids from Twelve and Eleven seemed desperate but determined, the remaining districts were hard to figure out. Sometimes the passion would burn in them so much I thought they would give the Careers a run for their money, other times it seemed they'd be dead in the first five minutes. Dinzil commented that one of the girls in training accidentally got knocked out by the instructor in the wrestling station. I felt bad for the poor thing, but at least she'd be dead fast.

After their final interviews—which went very well—I was sent to another gathering where I would finally meet up with Estelle. I was nervous…I had no idea what to expect with this new girl.

The party was at a large house with multicolored lights shooting out of it every which way. A few other Victors were there, including Haymitch who was hogging the bar and some guy named Beetee who was boring a few guests with the theory behind the size of music chips. Brutus was in the corner, a male tribute from about thirty years ago or so. He was one of the biggest guys I'd ever seen and wondered if the Brutus I killed was named after him.

I wasn't going to ask.

"Finnick Odair," a woman's voice purred. I turned around and there she was, my Estelle Panzarella. She was the host of this whole event, along with her wild mother. I put on a suave grin and placed my hand on her waist. Ivan told me she wanted a direct approach, so if she wanted to play the game I would play too.

"Estelle," I responded, kissing her hand.

"You really don't seem like you're fifteen," she marveled, not-so-discreetly running a hand over my abs and arms, "You're so toned."

"Well, I did win those games last year with just _one _arm, so can you imagine how strong I must be with both?"

She smiled wryly and pressed her body against mine, "I'd love to find out."

_Okay, yes, this _is_ moving fast._

If I was going to draw this out for a few days, I couldn't let her kiss me so soon or there would be nothing to look forward to. So I took her out to the floor for a dance. She kept grinding against me and pulsing her body to the beat. I was extremely uncomfortable, but I didn't let it show. How could all these men on the dance floor dance like this and not be…well…involuntarily excited over it? Or maybe they were experts at hiding such a thing.

After the party was finished, Estelle and I got into a car. I expected to be dropped off at the Training Center so that I could talk to the tributes, but we sped straight by it. "Where are we going?"

"Dinner at my place," she said casually, watching the lights race by.

"I thought we just were at your house…"

She laughed and rubbed my leg with her hand, "You tease, my _other_ house."

_Oh, how silly of me._

My heart was thudding again, I wasn't sure if I knew how to be charming in a private, close setting. What could I do? Smile and wink over a bowl of bird nest soup?

We pulled up outside a soaring, one-hundred story building. "I'm at the top flat," she bragged. I got out and helped her onto the sidewalk with her five-inch heels and tight skirt that I thought should render her immobile. We went inside and had to check in at security before being sucked up in an elevator. We went so high my ears popped.

"Here we are," she cooed, taking fast tiny steps out the open doors. Her red fur collar tickled my chin as she passed by me. "Come along now, Handsome."

I followed hesitantly, walking down a glossy hallway with sparkly stuff molted into the walls. Her heels pricked the tile floor with a constant, light, _tap tap tap tap tap tap tap. _I wished it wouldn't echo like that, it made me feel like I was being escorted to prison. Finally we reached her door which she opened by sliding a card down the slot and punching in a number code.

"Tight security here," I remarked, following her through the doors.

"I have a lot of valuable things I don't want taken," she said simply. Inside I felt like I was walking into a tripped out art gallery. Colors, sparkles, sharp angles and shadows, shapes, textures all spun around and clashed with each other. Puke, yes, like an artist ate a rainbow and puked it up. That was what this room was.

"Like it?" she asked, catching my open jaw.

"Love it."

A servant served us a dinner of some colorful salad with plums and red dressing. We both decided we weren't that hungry after the party anyway. We were given green drinks with jello bubbles in it to sip while we sat on her fluffy black couch.

"What is in this?" I asked, trying to examine it. The only thing I recognized was the slice of lemon on the rim. Half a glass in and I felt slightly intoxicated, a feeling I'd never experienced before. My face was hot and everything felt just an ebb hazy.

"It's some kind of tea," she said dismissively. She had her legs laid across my lap and switched on the television, watching Caesar and the gamemakers converse about the various tributes. I tried to focus on the way his mouth moved so I wouldn't worry too much about where I was or what was happening.

"Kiss me," she whispered, setting down her drink. I looked at her in surprise.

"What?"

"Kiss me." More aggressive that time.

I leaned in and pressed my lips against hers. I pulled away, but she grabbed my wrist.

"You call _that_ a kiss?"

I smiled and said, "I thought you said you weren't hungry?"

She rolled her eyes and then straddled my lap, pushing her mouth hard against mine. Our bodies were moving together as the kiss went on. As it started to drag on I thought to myself how lucky I was to have practiced some on Lacy, because Estelle wasn't playing around. I had my hands on her waist—which I thought was just fine—but she grabbed my wrists and slid them down. I couldn't help but blush, but luckily she'd moved to kissing my neck so she couldn't see. Finally she got up and pulled me with her.

"Come on, enough of this nonsense."

I followed her because I thought that meant I got to go home. But it was only when the door closed automatically behind me did I realize I was in her bedroom.

"Estelle…"

"One moment," she said, kissing me quickly, "I'm going to go change."

Relief. Okay, I knew from Lacy that Capitol citizens felt the need to put on a new outfit every time they went out. So she probably just wanted to put on a new dress or coat or whatever before they took me home. In case of pictures…or something.

She disappeared into what I assumed was a bathroom, so I sat on the edge of the bed to wait. I didn't like this, not one bit. And as soon as I got home Ivan was going to hear about it. They had no right sending me into other people's homes where I couldn't leave if I wanted to. It was borderline false imprisonment. The thought of it made me sick.

It was five minutes later and still Estelle hadn't emerged.

_What do girls do in there?_

"Estelle? You okay?"

"Be out in a minute!" she called.

I waited for another three of those minutes. I started to watch the clock on her wall, how the cat's eyes would look back and forth with every _tick tock _the second hand made. It was sort of creepy…

"Finnick."

I turned and then choked on my own air, completely incapacitated. Someone must have hit me on the head or shot me with poison. Maybe it was the tea.

Because there, before me, stood Marina Salts.

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

_I cannot BELIEVE he's doing it again._

We were forced to watch the games, naturally, it happened every year. But this means every once in a while catching the little blurbs that go on in the background after all the excitement on screen had died down. And of course, after the interviews, was Finnick with his hands on the waist of another Capitol citizen.

"He's really enjoying his newfound fame," Caesar remarked with a hearty laugh. I turned off the television and stormed into my room, slamming the door closed. I liked that feeling, of getting to slam a door if I wanted to. I never had that luxury in the old hut, but this new one was a lot nicer. I threw myself onto the bed and yanked the covers over my head as if to hide from what I saw. How could he be so nice, so genuine here, and such as ass over there? What was _wrong_ with him?

I couldn't sleep, so I had no idea what hour it was when I heard Pearl come in the house, giggling drunkenly. Stephen was chuckling quietly as well, and the closing of the door confirmed they had disappeared again for the night. I rolled my eyes and fell into a restless sleep, tossing and turning until the sun shone through my window and I just accepted that that was as good as it was going to get.

I sat at the table in silence, eating a bowl of fruit, when Pearl emerged with messy hair and a hung over look about her.

"Where's Stephen?" I asked, passing her a bowl.

"Hm?" she moaned, "He's out fishing. For three days, since yesterday. You knew that."

_Oh, right. How could I forget?_

…_.Wait._

"So Stephen's been gone since yesterday?" I repeated. She nodded groggily and plopped the fruit into her mouth.

"Then who was that man last night?"

She looked up, her eyebrows crunching over her eyes, "What?"

"I heard you two laughing."

She looked down at her bowl and rolled the fruit around with her spoon. "Don't worry about it. It was just me. I didn't have anyone with me."

"Yes you—"

"I didn't Annie…"

"But I _heard_ you—"

"I SAID I DIDN'T."

She was looking at me with tired but furious eyes. I felt tears starting to show and wiped them away quickly, embarrassed. Why did I always have to cry in the face of confrontation?

"Stephen loves you Pearl," I said in a quaky voice, "You can't do this to him. I'm not a little girl anymore, it's not like I don't understand—"

"No you _don't _understand."

I fit the table and my foot kicked the air under the table as if it was trying to stamp, "Stop talking over me!"

Pearl stood up and gripped the table for support, "What? Do you think you're some grown woman now or something? You think now you just get everything? You have NO idea what it means to be an adult! You get to sit there in complete blissful ignorance while I go out and do things _real _mature people do. And then you have the NERVE to sit there, and judge me for something that I DIDN'T DO!"

"YOU DID DO IT PEARL I HEARD THE MAN LAUGHING!"

Tears were running down my face and my whole body was shaking with anger. "And I'm not a child." Unfortunately my unstable voice broke and hit a high pitch that just made me sound _more_ like a child. Pearl shook her head and tossed her spoon onto the table.

"I really wouldn't be in such a rush to dismiss that part of life, if I were you."

She went back into her room after that, and almost as soon as her door closed, Echo's opened.

"You two were fighting again."

I shot her an annoyed took and stabbed a piece of pineapple with my fork, "No, of course not."

Echo sat at Pearl's bowl and started eating. Finally she asked, "Why do you care so much what she does anyway?"

Echo was a real child. She was the one that really didn't understand what was happening. So I lied.

"I don't."

"But—"

"Echo…please."

I thought Pearl had changed, that anything she was up to before the wedding ended when she promised herself to Stephen forever. But I guess not.

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

"Well…What do you think?"

I sat there, flabbergasted. It was Marina, from the short wavy hair to the blue eyes to the long neck to the dress she wore for her last interview with Caesar. But something was different…

"I don't understand."

She moved towards me, walking like a cat, "It's me, silly."

I didn't respond.

"It's Estelle."

Now I felt disgusted. And violated. What the Hell was going on?

"Why are you dressed like that?"

She stood in front of my with a flirty expression, "I bought it. This was the original dress she wore, you know. I had to pay half a fortune to get it. But I knew it would be worth it when I had you to myself."

"But…your hair…I…this is…"

"It's a wig. And makeup. Come on Handsome, aren't you surprised?"

I tried to swallow the rising emotion and keep composed. A shame my voice was just a pitch too high, "_Surprised_…would be a light term to use."

She laughed quietly and straddled my lap again, but when she tried to kiss me I pulled back.

"What's the matter?"

"Estelle…what are you trying to do?"

I was getting angry.

_This is a joke, a sick evil joke._

The craziest thing is that she actually looked struck, "I dressed up like Marina for you. I thought you would like it."

"Like it?" I pushed her as gently as I could and stood up, "Why would I like it? Only a lunatic would actually think that this is okay…"

She sat on the edge of the bed and looked, to my surprise, hurt. "Finnick, this is what people here _do…_"

"Dress up like other people's dead friends and then try to kiss them?" I said incredulously. I couldn't believe what was happening.

"When we're…alone with someone, intimately…we sometimes dress up. For fun. As someone that we think the other person would like. It's like, a fantasy."

I shook my head in disbelief, "You thought I'd want you to be Marina? Like, it was some sort of dream I had to kiss her?" She nodded, seeming a little upset. I couldn't say anymore, the shock of seeing Marina had done a number on me. I guess I wasn't being very delightful at this point. Estelle stood and placed her hands gently on my arms, coaxing me to the bed. I went without fighting, letting myself sink into the soft comforter. She gently started kissing my neck, as if testing, and then moved to my mouth. I didn't respond at first, but a small reminder told me to move my lips. This seemed to encourage her and she picked up speed. I put my hand on the back of her neck and felt the short, wavy hair. Her skin even smelled a little bit like the ocean, only with a flowery undertone. Why was I allowing this? What was happening to me?

Estelle pulled away and untangled herself from my limbs. "You need another drink," she commented, kissing my nose and then walking out of the room. I slapped my face, trying to bring myself back to life. A servant walked in through a skinny door with a grave look on his face.

"You don't how things work here," he whispered, still standing in the doorway. I stared blankly at him, waiting for more.

"You're right, I don't."

He took a step forward, then thought better of it and stepped back. "Terrible things," he hissed, "terrible things will happen if you resist her. To you. To the ones you love. Trust me."

He was leaving. I reached out to stop him, but of course I was too far away, "Wait! What do I do?"

He spun around just the door was sliding shut. "Just do whatever she—"

_Says._

Estelle came back through the door and I had to talk myself down from assuming it was Marina again. She had two tall, fancy looking glasses in her hand, one was orange and the other pink. She handed me the orange one that smelled strongly of spirits and kept the pink one for herself.

"Bottoms up," she said with a wink. I stared into the contents of my drink, the servant's words ringing in my head.

_Terrible things, terrible things will happen…_

I chugged the drink and waited for the intoxicating effects to take over. It didn't take long; I could feel the influence of the alcohol spreading through my veins. It made my head fuzzy and whatever impact Estelle's crazy costume was sort of muffled. So when she kissed me passionately, with the sweetness of her drink still in her mouth, I kissed back. She pushed down on my shoulder so that I was laying down with her on top of me. I could feel every inch of her body against mine. She pulled off my shirt and then wriggled out of her own dress. Marina's face smiled down at me and kissed my lips.

"Do you understand what's happening?" she asked. Wrong voice. That's not Marina's voice. She tried again, "Do you understand what we're about to do?"

"Yes."

She pulled off my pants, and from there I let basic instinct take over. Instincts to react to her naked body above me. To let the smell of the ocean on her skin help me imagine I was home. To let her image make me believe that this was someone I knew, someone I cared about, and not a stranger enslaving me. I pulled her underneath me, felt her body, stroked her hair, kissed her skin. I did everything my instincts told me to do except look into her eyes.

She did everything she knew how to, to keep my head in what was happening. She breathed heavily, whispered things in my ear, stroked her hand lightly over my chest.

_Something terrible will happen…to the ones you love._

My mind seemed to break through the stuffy heat and alcohol and I came back to life. I needed to do this, or else something bad could happen. Maybe something would, maybe something wouldn't, but I could never forgive myself if someone got hurt because of me. So I stopped Estelle in the middle of what she was doing, forced her up so that her head was back on the pillows and the headboard, and gave her what she wanted. Because that's what it's like in the Capitol, they just get whatever they want.

No matter what.

I woke up the next morning in an unfamiliar bed and had to take a moment to remember what had happened. I felt lower than ever before. More than that I felt betrayed. I was a victor, not some servant. I never should have been put in this position, and what I lost could never be given back. No, I was never going to forgive them. When the authorities hear what happened, I'll be free of this for sure. I'll never have to return to the Capitol again to kiss, party, flirt, whatever.

Estelle was next to me, seeming more human in her sleep. I guess she'd gone to the bathroom after it was over and took off the Marina wig and makeup, because now she was back to the dark-haired, red lipped girl I met in the beginning of the night. Strange, how I never thought I'd feel like I did after the arena again. How I got that sensation that years had passed when in reality only a short time had. But now I felt it again. Last night was ten years to me. Her eyes opened and found me. I couldn't read her expression. Was it satisfaction? Happiness? Guilt?

"You didn't want to do that," she whispered in a rough, morning voice. I stared at her then looked down at our completely naked bodies. The shock of seeing her figure there before me left me speechless. What could I say to that, anyway?

"Would you like one of my paintings? Or a sculpture? They're all worth a fortune at least."

She was trying to give me something to ease her guilt. Yes. That's what Lacy must have been doing when she gave me the bracelet. I shook my head and said simply, "I would like my clothes."

She sighed and got out of bed, plucking my clothes out of the wreckage. I stood and stretched, not bother to cover myself up. She handed me the clothes and then went about searching for her own. I pulled on my pants first and then my shirt.

"Will I make it back in time to say good-bye to Dinzil and Jonas?" I asked coldly.

Estelle looked at her watch and nodded, "It's six in the morning. You have three hours before they even get a wakeup call."

I nodded and made sure I had everything before heading for the door. "Wait," she said, sitting down at the table, "Don't you want breakfast, Handsome?"

I sat down across from her, partially because I probably didn't have a choice and partially because it smelled delicious. The servant came out and placed a platter of baked meats smothered in sweet syrup and fried eggs. I didn't realize 'til that moment just how ravenous last night's events had left me. I dug in and watched Estelle throw on a pair of glasses and start scribbling on a clipboard. It reminded me vaguely of Garcia. "What are you doing?" I asked her.

"Sketching up another billboard for Snow's campaign. Not that it matters."

She gave a short _oop_ and covered her mouth, looking at me with wide eyes.

"What?"

She seemed to go through a short inner battle and then decide to just spit it out, "It's just that, Snow's opponents never seem to stay long. That's all."

I couldn't get her to say anything more after that. After breakfast we left the building, smiled for a few camera's—me in my "last night's clothes"—and then got into a car for the Training Center. I gave her an awkward good-bye and then ran inside. No one was even awake, so I had plenty of time to curl up in a ball on the couch and try not to think about what just happened and thinking of nothing else.


	16. Chapter 16

**16**

**The Black Flag**

"Ivan! I have a bone to pick with you," I shouted, seeing him across the room. I'd just said good-bye to Dinzil and Jonas and now it was time to address my problem.

"Oh, whatever is the matter?" he asked innocently. He sounded like such a sadistic little snob whenever he talked. I walked up to him and poked his chest with my finger.

"These 'assignments' have gone _way_ too far. She took me to her house last night and…"

He raised his eyebrows, "And?"

"Things happened that I didn't want to happen. I'm not doing this anymore and I expect that there's going to be some sort of apology for forcing me to go into a stranger's home completely unprotected."

Ivan started laughing and patted my shoulder, "An apology? Oh that's rich."

Anger was boiling up inside of me, "Do you have any idea how much trouble you are in now? You'll never have a job again."

He stopped laughing, but kept that oh-so endearing smile, "Wrong, boy."

"As soon as—"

"I've done my job. Rather beautifully, if I do say so myself."

I stopped and looked at him. What was happening?

"I don't understand."

"Are you really that dense?"

He was insulting me. Why was he insulting me? I should be insulting him! "I—"

"Listen, boy. You think you're free, but you're not. We own you; the Capitol owns you. If we tell you to dance with a girl, you're going to dance with her. If we tell you to go up to her room and not come out until morning, you will. You don't get a choice."

"But why?" now that feeling of betrayal was taking over completely, "I'm a victor! I've played your games…"

"Wrong again." Ivan was close to my face and I could smell the garlic on his breath, "Our games are just beginning. You want to know what will happen if you refuse?"

"You can't make me do this! It's not fair."

"They die."

"Who dies?" I hate to admit it but I was almost in tears. This was so ludicrous, just too insane to believe…

"The ones you love. Your mother. Your father. Your friends. One by one they all die, and believe me boy, we're not afraid to go for the throat if we need to."

I clenched my jaw and before I knew what was happening my fist connected with Ivan's face. The sound of the impact cracked through the air and Ivan fell into the wall.

_Shit. What have I done?_

"I'm sorry."

Ivan straightened up and wiggled his jaw to test his function. Then he smiled at me like a toothy barracuda. "See? That's the passion we recognized. I wouldn't recommend hitting me again, but let's channel that fire into your assignments from now on, alright boy? And you better make it convincing, because one little slip up and you're going to feel it. Believe me, you're going to be a busy man."

He left after that and I sat down because my legs wouldn't support me anymore. Was this really how it was going to be? I was going to have to parade around and pretend to want these woman and the whole time…

"It's not just you," I heard Coral say from behind me, "A lot of us get auctioned off as rewards. If we're desirable, someone wants a piece. You're not alone."

She left too, and once again I was by myself and I actually let myself succumb to the tears and covered my face so no one would see them. I should have let myself die in the arena. I never should have come out.

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

The Games were over. Turned out the weak girl from Seven was tricking everyone the whole time. She was only thirteen but took out eight people with an axe singlehandedly. I didn't watch when I could help it. Three girls. Finnick was photographed with _three_ girls during his escapade in the Capitol. I knew he was coming home today, but I didn't want to see him.

I went to the slums instead. I went into an old woman's house to clean up, cook her something, and reseal her roof. While I was there she fell and hit her head, so I changed my course and started walking her for the health center. It was a slow going process and the tiny cut on her bump was bleeding, which made me nauseated. I got about halfway when I heard a voice behind me.

"I knew I'd find you here."

I froze but then set my jaw and kept walking. "Go away, Finnick."

I could hear him still following behind us. "Do you want some help with her?"

"I said go away."

He ran up in front of me with his hands out so I had to stop. When I looked at his face I saw what everyone got to see on the screens; Finnick with his hair styled up and the makeup that made his eyes look bigger and his cheekbones rounder. The way his skin shimmered unnaturally and how he smelled like weird cologne. Only thing human about him was the sheen of sweat on his forehead.

"Annie, please. I need this right now. I need to help other people."

"This is not a game, Finnick!" I spat, almost losing my grip on the old woman's arm, "These people aren't just here to give you an emotional lift whenever you go off and do something crappy. You want to feel better about yourself? Don't go to the Capitol and run off with a bunch of random girls you don't know, how about that?"

Finnick frowned but then looked at the old woman. She didn't seem entirely conscious anymore and her weight was making my knees shake. Without a word he took her from me and carried her easily over his shoulder. I was so annoyed I couldn't even speak. But I wanted to make sure the woman made it to the center okay, so I followed behind him.

_You're not being fair Annie. You don't know what he's going through._

_Oh, shut it._

We dropped her off at the doctor's and Fin placed a few coins in the nurse's hand. If he thought he could buy his way to forgiveness, he was wrong.

We started walking back to the slums in silence. It felt good to ignore him, like I didn't have to use words to let him know how irate I was. Finally, after about five minutes of it, he turned and stopped in front of me.

"Annie, please. I know you're angry, but just give me this one? I go home and they pretend everything's fine, I go to my other friends and they make me seem like some sort of hero—"

"Oh yeah, that must be so hard."

"You're the only one who still sees me as a human being. Annie, someday I'll explain it. I'll explain everything, but I'm begging you. You're the only friend I know that makes me feel like I can tolerate myself. I know it doesn't make sense…"

He did look pretty desperate, and all too soon the nicer part of me won over.

_Annie, you are such a weakling._

"Fine. But I'll just have you know I don't like it one bit Finnick, I don't like who you are when you leave home. Just putting that out there."

He looked down and shuffled his feet, "I know."

"Okay then," I breathed, trying to lighten the tone of my voice, "On the pretense that you are going to tell me what is going on at some point in this lifetime, we can be friends. But no mentioning to Capitol or the games or anything like that until you are going to tell me the full story. Until then, I'm going to pretend that that part of you doesn't even exist. Deal?"

He smiled and gave me a brief hug, "Sounds refreshing."

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

"Lower the sail, we don't want to get stuck out here forever," my father told me. It was incredibly hot today, especially directly under the sun in the middle of the ocean. Father let me join the crew today on a fishing trip, and I went without hesitation. Volunteering with Annie was good therapy, but I needed a break from people. I needed the sun and the waves and the bad salty food. When I'd left for the Capitol I never went beyond kissing a girl, now I had experienced three in a way I don't think I was remotely prepared for. I did have plenty of gifts to give my mother when I returned home, however.

"Are you okay?" I asked. My father was rubbing his stomach and wincing; odd because he rarely ever let pain show on his face.

"I'm fine. Just some bad food I think. No matter. Oh and we're on a ship now, remember the rule."

"Right sorry, _sir_." I went about lowering the sail, but he stopped me.

"Hey, listen for a second son. I don't know what's going on in the Capitol with you, but I don't really like it. It makes you look shallow, and no Odair is ever going to be such. Alright?"

I stared at him with mild shock but nodded robotically. He patted me head a little too hard and sighed, "Just thought it should be said, that's all."

I walked away and got to work on the ship. We let the wind carry us for a good hour before throwing anchor and raising the sails again.

"Don't cast the nets yet boys, everyone go for a swim. We need to cool off or everyone's going to die of a heatstroke," Captain Odair hollered. A couple woops rang from the crew and then they all started diving off the side and plunging deep into the water. I had my trident with me, even though the water was deep. It was mostly for safety and practice, from what my parents said.

In the water I couldn't help but feel eerie out this deep, not knowing what sort of strange and dangerous creatures swam below my feet. It didn't help that the men were splashing around and carrying on without a care in the world.

I swam around until I'd fully cooled off and then climbed back on to the ship. A few men were on the deck, drying their faces off in their shirts. I went to join them when I heard it.

It's a sense we all develop at an early age, to hear that extra splash that makes all of our hair stand on end. I ran to the edge of the ship and a quarter of a mile out was my father.

Drowning.

My heart stopped and I froze, not able to do anything but stare. Why wasn't he yelling? What was happening…

And then that's when I saw the second problem; the massive shark circling the scene of the crime. Blood was in the water, he was struggling, but from what I could see the shark was right on top of him. I was losing my father in a fray of white and red water.

"Hey! _HEY_!" I screamed, pointing at him. The men below in the water followed my finger and then started shouting. I couldn't tell what was going on in the sudden chaos, but knew that all the splashing could only attract more predators. A few braver crewmates started swimming out to him, but I knew they would be defenseless against any predators that may show themselves; they were completely unarmed for heaven's sake! I threw my trident in the rescue boat, jumped inside and cut the rope, sending me into a stomach flipping fall into the water. I didn't look to see where I was paddling and I'm pretty sure I hit a few men on my way out, but I didn't care. There was nothing else but me, my father, and the stretch of water in between us.

"Dad! DAD!" I started shouting again. I don't know what good it would do except tell him I'm coming. The shark's fin disappeared and then he screamed, jerking around in the water and increasing the frenzy of noise behind me from the others. I paddled faster, if that were possible. Who cares if the wood was making my hands bleed? I didn't feel it anyway. More red was billowing up around him and now I was close enough to make out the anguish and the panic in his face. Those who had swam out reached him before my boat, but couldn't get any closer because of the shark. What were they expecting anyway?

When I was just a few feet away, I lifted the trident over the side of the boat and waiting for the brute to show itself again. as soon as I caught the glint of sunlight shining off its gray hide, I struck and sunk the prongs deep into its back. The shark was so big it probably was nothing fatal, but it did flip around, show me it's terrible bloody teeth, and then dive deep into the depths where the dark murky blue swallowed it up into safety.

But where was my father? I whipped my head around and then saw the swimmers diving under and realized he was sinking. I moved the trident and adjusted the boat into a good position for the men to bring him too.

_Come on…come on where are you?_

They breached the surface with a huge gasp, both of them helping to pull their captain through the water and to my boat. I saw how dangerous this was, to be trashing about it bloody water, completely distanced from the group. What had my father been thinking? He never made rash decisions like this…

"Grab him, boy," the bearded man gurgled, his mouth getting sucked underwater for a moment. I reached down and hooked my arms under his pits and hoisted, but it was clear the little boat was in danger of tipping. The other man swam to the other side and held it, but just that small amount of waiting did a number on me. I tried again, pulling him up with shaky arms. Water and blood poured into the boat, but at least he was on. His eyes were closed, his legs were shredded, but I couldn't evaluate anymore. I fell into the routine we learned as children, trying to feel breath on our cheek whilst checking the pulse. No breath. I blew air into his lungs and listened again. this time there was no breath and no pulse. My own quickened, not even noticing the other men climbing into the boat. I tipped his head back and forced more air into his lungs, then pumping his heart over and over again. The other two sat behind me, ready to sub in if I got tired. But there was no way I could be; his life was literally in my hands.

"Come on," I breathed before giving him more air. I rechecked his vitals but still nothing.

"Help me!" I cried desperately to the men behind me. They looked grave but the younger one knelt down and told me to pump his heart and he'd do the air. We took turns like that, checking his vitals and then giving him air, then his heartbeat.

Finally, finally he choked. We sat back and let him cough out what seemed like a gallon of sea water. His sharp green eyes found me and he reached for my hand. I think I might have been crying because his hand roughly wiped something off my cheek. He didn't look good. Even with the water gone from his lungs his breathing was shallow and pained. The bearded man started paddling swiftly but smoothly for the ship. I held his hand in both of mine and stared at his shining eyes.

_Say something. Why don't you say something?_

"Dad…"

He shook his head and silenced me with his expression. I couldn't look anywhere else but him.

"Take care of your mother, tell her I love her," he rasped. I wanted to tell him not to talk and say things like that, but my father wasn't someone who did things to be dramatic. Everything he said had purpose and meaning, and if he spoke, even if it was rough and an inch from death, you listened.

So I just nodded, keeping my grip on his hands and holding my vision locked with his. Everything about him seemed to be fading under his whiskers and tanned leather skin. "I'm proud you're my son."

He never said these things, they were too 'soft' for him. But if was saying them now, then he must've given up already.

But I wouldn't.

"Stay alive, we're going to get you onto the ship and—"

"Finnick…"

"Shut up," I snapped at the young man next to me, "Listen to me, dad, keep looking into my eyes, we're going to get you help. But you have to stay alive. For mom and me."

My vision was blurred by tears, but when I wiped them away I wish I hadn't. His eyes, my eyes, still looking at each other, but his were completely unblinking. And I sat there on that tiny damn boat and watched the light drain from my father's eyes and was completely helpless against it.

"No. No no no no _no..."_

I slammed my hands over his heart, a last-ditch approach we'd learned only to use in the most dire situations.

_One…two…three…_

"Finnick…"

_Four…five…_

"Finnick!"

_Six…_

"Fin—"

"STOP!" I broke, whipping around to shove the other man away. I couldn't stand the pity in his eyes, and cautious way his hands were hovering near my arm. "I'm _not _giving up on him!" I choked. I tried to go back to working on his heart, but a pair of arms stopped me.

"Enough boy!" I struggled and kicked as I was pulled from the boat onto the deck of the ship. I hadn't been aware that they even hoisted us up. "Enough."

I stopped for a moment just to see what was happening. I saw my arms and legs soaked in blood, I saw the crew in a tight circle around me, my captors, and the boat. The water was died a crimson red and I realized that the whole time I was worried about his heart I never saw he was completely bleeding out.

"Let me go, please."

I'd calmed down enough they seemed to think it was okay. A couple of crewmembers pulled my father from the boat and laid him on the wooden planks where everyone could see the extent of his injuries. I dropped to me knees and felt for his heartbeat, but of course I found nothing.

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

Finnick's ship had returned, but everyone on shore was frozen. I squinted to see why and then felt my blood turn to ice as the black silk flag billowed against the sail. Peacekeepers were standing by while dock-workers tethered the ship and positioned the walk board. I pushed through the thick of people and stood by the plank, waiting for the men to start unloading. Finnick was the first off, his face white as a sheet and blood dried onto his skin and clothes.

"Finnick, what happened?" I whispered, lightly grabbing his sleeve. He looked at me and took a few more steps down the plank, never breaking our gaze.

"He's dead." His voice broke like glass, sending a chill from my heart out to my fingertips. He looked away from me and walked straight and sure, right to where his mother stood.

She looked like a hollow shell, completely stunned. He wrapped his arms around her to support the woman's weight as they carried the stretcher carefully down the board, a white sheet covering the corpse. But of course, even if no one had seen Finnick, the height of the man alone would've told us who it was. Mrs. Odair made some sort of heart shattering sound and covered her mouth, reaching her other shaking hand out to touch the chest of the man then brought before her. She ran her quivering fingers across the sheet, over his shoulder and head. I couldn't stop from crying myself, watching the tears well in her eyes and her lip quiver. Finnick pressed her head into his chest and tightened his arms around her, protecting her.

The peacekeepers started pushing the onlookers away, allowing the rest of the crew to exit the ship and find their families. I took off before any of them could come shoo me away.

Poor Finnick. More than that, his poor mother.

_No matter how hard I try, I don't think I'll ever be able to fix him._

Captain Odair had been a private man, but that couldn't stop the streams of people coming to drop flowers and sand during his burial. I stood next to Pearl and Stephen, who'd sailed with him once or twice in the past. Echo hung in the back so she wouldn't get in the way. I stared across the way at the pale, exhausted, stone-faced Finnick and his weeping mother. His absent family had shown themselves today, standing behind them with ashy expressions and folded hands. Brye, Martin, Crest, and Dawn had swallowed their problems with emotions and stood by Finnick's side, occasionally gripping his shoulder. But his mother stood alone. Finnick held her one hand firmly, but I don't know if he wouldn't or couldn't do more. So I snuck through the crowd while they listed all of Captain Odair's accomplishments and came up by Mrs. Odair's side, opposite of Finnick. Without a word I wrapped my arms around her shoulder and neck and kept them there. She gave a little sob and then kissed the top of my head, gripping my arm with her free hand. I stood there until it was all done and the final handfuls of sand had been dropped on his grave.

The guests all started to shuffle away solemnly, but I stayed because she was still holding to my arm. I stayed until it was just me and her, Finnick, and his four friends.

"C'mon," he said finally, jostling his mother's hand, "we should go."

She stirred and slowly released me arm, glancing at me quickly and then letting Finnick guide her. He nodded his thanks and then I watched them leave, his friends each casting me a grave look before following the procession.

"Annie, let's go home," Pearl said gently, wrapping her arm around my shoulder. I went with her, but even at home I couldn't get the haunting scene out of my head. I'd had a parent die—both, actually—so I knew how nothing compared to that hurt. The shock of being abandoned.

The only thing I could do now was to wait for Finnick to come back to my beach someday, hoping for a distraction.


	17. Chapter 17

_Okay, hopefully this chapter will help you guys understand a little bit better why I dedicated a chapter to killing Finnick's father. Btw, this chapter does involve some fast fowarding. Just fyi. Happy reading!_

**17**

**Secrets and a Resolution**

"I have to go in for a visit to the Capitol tomorrow," I told my mother while hanging up the phone. "What are you doing?"

She hadn't cried since the funeral, but I couldn't help but feel like I had to walk on glass around her. She and my father had been together for twenty years, so this was not an easy adjustment. Now she was standing in her room, staring at a pile of clothes she made on the bed.

"I'm packing."

I walked in and leaned against the doorway. I could see a suitcase left open at her feet and raised my eyebrows. "Why?"

She picked a few dresses out of the mess and tossed them in the case. "I'm moving to a new house."

"Where?"

"Oh you know, the village you're aunt used to live in…the one where they hold that festival every two years."

"The one that's two hours away?"

She nodded and continued to toss clothes into the suitcase. I was a little confused, she never talked about moving before. "But…"

"I need to get out of here for a while, Finnick. That's all. I can't stand being here with everyone giving me sympathy and staring and whispering. And now his _name_ is _everywhere_, I can't do it anymore. So I'm leaving."

I crossed my arms, "You think that this is a good idea?"

She sighed and kicked the suitcase shut with her foot, "Better than staying here."

I nodded but then caught her arm, "You know I can't go with you, right?"

She smiled and patted my cheek with her hand, "I know Sweetie. I'll see you soon, I promise."

My mother departed the next day, before I left for the Capitol again.

"Finnick, it's good to see you again. What's it been, like a month since our last visit?"

"Hello, Ivan."

"Oh tut, tut. Such a bitter tone. Sorry to hear about your father by the way. Stomach bug, was it?"

I looked at him coldly, "He was attacked by a shark."

Ivan pulled a few papers off his clipboard and started reading off of them, "Phillip Odair, forty-five. It says here he was sick before the attack, and according to a crewmate he went swimming to 'work out a cramp'. The autopsy seemed to show that your father started drowning before his injuries were inflicted, so I'm guessing he was pretty sick. All that extra thrashing probably brought that shark around."

I stared at the paper in his hands, "You know all that?"

He waved it with a smug grin, "That's what it says. Oh and I thought I should tell you your mother has arrived at her destination safely."

I blinked and then decided to ignore him. "Assignment?"

"Coca Templesmith. Here's her picture. You only have to spend one night with her, then you'll be spending two more with Estelle again. She liked you."

My insides shuddered, but I look the picture anyway and started for my room to be alone. Not that I was actually alone, apparently I never was.

"Ivan…" I froze at the door, "just how much do you know about me?"

He laughed his oily little laugh and flashed me one of his wry grins. "We know you've never kissed a girl outside those in the Capitol. We know you broke your ankle when you were four and we know you paid for some old woman's visit to the health center before your father died. We know who's names you say in your sleep…We know everything about you, Finnickboy."

He left and I stood there to let that soak in.

_Am I ever going to have any secrets from the Capitol?_

_o-o-o_

"Drink?" Estelle asked, pulling on her silk bathrobe. I shook my head and stared up at her painted ceiling. She poured one for herself and leaned against the vanity, "Well, I know you don't want any of my art…"

I sighed and sat up, making sure I was covered with the blanket. "Actually, there _is_ something I want."

She perked up a bit and moved to the edge of the bed. "Then ask for it."

I leaned in closer to her, "A secret."

Estelle raised an eyebrow and bit her lip. "A secret?"

I nodded and directed all my allure I could at her.

_Come on girl, bite._

"What _kind_ of secret?"

I flashed her a sly smile and leaned in so I was whispering into her neck, "_A delicious one_."

Her eyes twinkled and I knew I had her hooked. She took a while to think and then pulled me up near the headboard, as if it were safer to tell me there.

"The reason why Snow never loses a campaign is because his candidates always just disappear. I don't know what happens, I just know they started paying me to make these billboards for the campaign, but gave me no political information what-so-ever. It's like, it's all for show. I could paint my own face on there and Snow's still going to win."

"Really?"

She leaned in confidentially, cupping her hand over her mouth as if that would make her words quieter, "I don't know anyone who's working on another campaign's adds. I have a friend who got paid _not_ to make an add for another candidate."

_There you go Snow. You want to take away my privacy? My entire life? Know every little thing about me and use it as a weapon? Fine, I'll play. Let's _share_ secrets._

"Thank you, Estelle."

She smiled and kissed my nose, "Thank _you._ I've been bursting to tell that to someone for a year now."

From that day, secrets became my vice. Whenever I was called away to the Capitol, I wouldn't except their gold, their jewels, or any other tangible gifts. No, I slowly started striving for secrets. Some were of no importance to me, others were so shocking I was scared to know them. The more time I spent in the Capitol, the more I learned about the intrigues underneath the ridiculous, gilded society they lived in.

When I was home I would spend a lot of time working out a map of the corruption in my head. It distracted me from other things, which felt good for once. If I wasn't doing that, I was working out or fishing or swimming. Sometimes I saw my friends and would follow them around, but my mind was always somewhere else. Sometimes I'd see Annie and we would go to volunteer at the slums, but not as often as we used to, and we barely talked when we did. With all the scandal going on in the Capitol, I don't think she wanted to talk to me.

I learned about a time that Snow assigned a peacekeeper to a post in District Twelve so that he could sleep with the man's wife. I learned that Snow paid off the authorities to keep his niece from getting arrested for some sort of exotic illegal activity. I learned a lot about Snow's scandalous activities behind closed doors, but I've never even met the man outside the crowning ceremony. Other than him I learned about random Capitol citizens like Caesar Flickerman and how the government actually funds his plastic surgeries to keep him on the show. The more I knew, the better I felt about not having any secrets of my own. I didn't enjoy my new assignments, but getting my little biscuit at the end sweetened the deal of being completely wrought with shame and turbulent guilt.

It was getting cold outside, so I threw on a jacket and walked out onto the beach. I don't know what it was today, but something about the overcast sky and the odd gray light everywhere that drew me in. I walked mindlessly until my feet carried me back into the water on Annie's beach.

"Hey, Stranger."

Annie was in the water, floating on her back not far off the shore. She always seemed to be in these billowy white dresses that looked like the skirts of a jellyfish in the water. She lifted her head slightly, found me, then gave a short wave. I eased into the water and paddled up to her, trying not to shiver. "Aren't you cold?"

She looked a lot paler than usual. Probably a combination of the season, lighting, and cold. A few lingering freckles still clung to the bridge of her nose and cheeks. "A little," she sighed contently, waving her arms up and down. I dove underwater for a while to try and get used to it, but still couldn't bring myself to adjust.

"Annie, why are you floating around in the water when it's absolutely freezing?" I finally asked, popping up on the other side of her. It was too deep here to touch so I started kicking.

"You're not the only one with problems you don't talk about Finnick."

_Well, that was uncalled for._

"What?"

"Forget it, I'm sorry."

I grabbed her hand and pulled for the shore, "No, come on. Tell me."

She straightened up and looked at me, as if trying to figure something out. "Pearl's cheating on Stephen and there's nothing I can do about it. And it doesn't help when Echo walks around acting like she's older than I am. Specifically today, I came here instead of fighting with my sisters because I don't want to fight. I don't want to seem ungrateful for everything Pearl's done, but sometimes it's hard not to say something that I know she should hear."

Well now I felt bad. All this time I relied on Annie to be there for me I took her completely for granted. Never once had I asked about her problems. "Annie, I'm sorry. I didn't know Pearl was cheating on Stephen…though I guess it doesn't surprise me."

Now she looked angry. "What does _that_ mean?"

"No, not like that. I just mean that, well, so many men chased after her I'm just not surprised she's had the offers. I never took her for the marrying-young type, anyway."

Her eyes narrowed but then she shrugged, "No, I guess not."

"Why didn't you tell me before?" I asked after some time had passed. I don't know why everything I said seemed to make her angry, but this time was no different.

"I don't know Fin, maybe it's because we never actually _talk._ I give you your token before you went into an arena where your friend died in your arms and then you came out as the only survivor. Then you get sent back and start running around with a bunch of random girls, promise to tell me about it but never do. Then your _father _dies, your mother disappears, and you just completely vanish off the face of the earth. And you know, I really miss my friend, but you just haven't had the time. No, the most I've seen of you lately is on a television screen exchanging spit with some mutilated freak!"

"Annie, that's not fair…"

"No Fin! What's not fair is realizing that the whole time I thought we were actually friends, but you were just using me to make yourself feel better after selling your soul off to the Capitol."

"You have no idea what's going on with that."

"Then tell me! Fin, I don't get why you won't let me understand you. Nothing you have to say can really be that bad."

I looked at her for a second then decided to bite. Secrets were meant to be shared, right? I pulled her in so that the water was shallow enough for us to stand. "Annie, they make me sleep with all those girls."

Her eyes flickered and I could feel her whole disposition rear up, ready to tear into me. But I held up my hand before she could start. "They _make _me. I don't have a choice."

Now her face fell and there was the caring, concerned Annie I knew so well. "They make you? How? Oh my goodness…Fin…you're only what? Fifteen? Sixteen? That's disgusting!"

"Sh!" I hissed, covering her mouth. We couldn't criticize the Capitol like that, it was just asking for punishment. "They threaten me. If I don't do it, someone I love will wind up hurt, or dead."

She looked close to tears and put a hand over her mouth as soon as I took mine away. "That's horrible. But…I don't understand. Why? Why do they want you to do that with these girls?"

I shrugged, "I don't ask a lot of questions if I can avoid it. I've been told though I'm usually bought and paid for, sometimes a reward. How far I'm supposed to go is subjective to how much money they give President Snow or how large the deed was that they did. That's all I know."

_I can't tell her the secrets. It's too dangerous; to say out loud and for her to know._

"I'm so sorry, Fin…"

Well, I was already pouring my heart out, so why not add the cherry topper?

"I think that's how my father died."

She creased her eyebrows and shook her head, "No…no your father bled to death. It had nothing to do with you."

I covered my face and shivered as the breeze froze the already cold droplets of water all over my back. "But he was complaining about feeling sick before he even got in the water. He was _never _sick. I think someone put poison in his food and he didn't know, so he went swimming. Then when it started taking more effect, he started drowning which attracted the shark…"

"That's ridiculous, there's no way that anyone could have known that shark was out there."

I looked at her and used the water as a table to draw out my points, "But they didn't have to. The poison could have taken him out, or the drowning would. They know we swim, it's in our nature in District Four. They just wanted to make it look like enough of a natural death to convince the public, but I think they knew I would see through it. They want to get to me…so they killed him."

"But, they had no reason to," she reasoned, "Did they?"

I ran my fingers through my hair miserably, "I don't know…maybe. I mean, the first time I went to Estelle's apartment, I didn't know what I was getting into."

"Estelle?"

"The dark haired one. She was my first, I guess you could say."

"You guess?"

"Well…she was dressed as Marina. Wait. Let me back up. The first time I went there, I had no idea what I was getting into. I thought I was just arm candy, that all I had to do was flirt and occasionally kiss a girl and take pictures. Then she came out dressed as Marina and tried to seduce me and I kind of freaked out…I mean I went through with it, so it's not like I didn't do what I was supposed to…but…I hesitated. And from what I've learned from people like Haymitch and Crabbe and Seeder, the Capitol doesn't take well to hesitation. I'm afraid that my father's death was their subtle warning, a way to torture me. Because there's no way I can know for sure that they did it, and yet…they might have. It's just turning me more into their slave than I was before."

Annie smiled sadly and shook her head again, "Fin, they didn't kill your father. You're tricking yourself. You did nothing wrong."

"But—"

"And even if they did," she intercepted, holding up her dripping hand, "then you driving yourself crazy thinking about it is just what they want. So prove them wrong, don't let it get to you."

I hung my head, "But Annie, it could be my fault he's dead."

She wrapped her arms around me and stroked my hair gently, "No. It's your fault he had a reason to live. Nevermind how he died."

_Nice spin on words, Annie._

After a while we got out of the water but quickly found out it was way too cold to remain in our wet clothes. Because she didn't want to return to her house just yet, we ran to mine, our teeth ready to split with all the chattering. I gave her some clothes my mother left behind; not really her style but at least it was dry. I changed into long pants and a thickly woven shirt, then got to work on the fireplace. Annie came out in the baggy brown dress and sat on the sofa, holding her hands out to the warmth of the fire. I sat down next to her and put an arm around her shoulder to help warm the both of us up.

"So I'm guessing all my work on rebuilding your self-worth has gone down the tubes since this new development?" she asked with a hint of joke in her voice. I laughed and gave her a big nod for effect.

"I don't know what to do with myself. It's all so against everything I was raised for…"

She stared into the fire and then decided something and shrugged, "Well, if you don't have a choice I guess you're just going to have to accept it."

That wasn't exactly what I was expecting to hear. "How?"

"Well, if you keep thinking of…that kind of intimacy as an act of love, you're going to tear yourself to pieces. So I guess either you think of it as just an act of pleasure, or as an act of love in different regards. Like, it's not because you love Ester or Estelle or whatever that you slept with her, but because you love your friends and family; you want to protect them."

I laughed and shook my head, "Easier said than done. "

"Nah. You're not doing it because you love them, it's because you have to. Just don't treat it like a big deal…"

"Okay, okay Annie. I'll try."

We fell into silence after that, and my mind wandered off to the girl's I'd been with thus far. Estelle, Coca, Gianni, Sara, Mimi. Their faces circled around in my thoughts, their words bounced around in my ears. Could I separate myself from what I did with them? I guess I could. Maybe like the tributes in the arena, it's better if I just don't learn their names.

Eventually I came back to reality, and noticed it had gotten rather dark and Annie had fallen asleep on my shoulder, her wet hair soaking my shirt. The fire was struggling, making the house colder than when I first left it mentally. I scooted slowly out from underneath her so as not to wake her up, and then let her body fall limply into my arms. I scooped her up as easily as if she were a doll, and carried her into my mother's room where the bed had been freshly made in hopes of its owner's return. She fell effortlessly into the covered and sighed happily as she snuggled deep into the pillow. I grinned and tucked the blanket up over her shoulder, and then left her with a friendly kiss on the cheek.

Wasn't I supposed to be the one that protects the girl? The porcelain doll that nobody wants broken? And yet she constantly seemed to go right back to fixing me. I had to wonder though, if Pearl was busy now with Stephen and her other beaus, who was caring for Annie? Maybe it was time for me to be a better friend and show a little loyalty, a little guardianship.

I curled up into my own bed and let myself fall asleep, succumbing to the dreams I could never escape. But tonight they were fuzzy and weird, not the usual vivid gore I had grown accustom to. I'm pretty sure Annie was in there, floating around in her jellyfish dress underwater. Sometimes the water would glow. At one point I was swimming alongside the shark, though I'm not sure if I was trying to kill it. Another time Marina was there though her face with out of focus, and she kept painting on these masks and handing them to me. Weird, yes. Senseless, of course. But I'd take it over my nightmares any day.

Maybe that was it then. Maybe Annie's friendship was the healthiest thing for me. Whenever I shared a day with her, my nightmares didn't come. She made me purer, I think. So that next morning when I woke up, I opened my nightstand drawer and put on that shell bracelet she gave me a long time ago and then went to go make breakfast. Annie was my friend, possibly my most vital friend. And now I knew I had to do better for her sake, because I couldn't just take and not give. But I couldn't always work out time for her, I knew that. And when I couldn't, when I ran around on the television with all my flashy strangers, at least she'd see I was still holding on to the part of me that mattered; and it was tied right around my wrist for anyone to see.


	18. Chapter 18

_Finally! I've been waiting to write this chapter for a long time, I hope you guys enjoy it. (oh btw, i've been wanting to post the links to some of my pics i drew for this. does anyone know if i'm allowed to do that?) Happy reading!_

**18**

**She Crept Up On Me**

_About four years later, shortly after the Sixty-Ninth Hunger Games. _

"Nice to have you back for a while," Crest sighed, kicking a rock around in front of her. Brye and Dawn were holding hands a lot these days, so I walked somewhere between Crest and Martin.

"Yeah, sorry, it's been sort of busy in the Capitol lately."

Martin laughed and slapped me on the back. When did his hands get so big? "Yeah, _busy._ Just for once, can you bring one of those girls home for me?"

I chuckled and rolled my shoulder to stop the stinging. "Where are we going, anyway?"

"Market place," Dawn rang from behind, "I need to get something for my mom's birthday dinner. And you two boys need to sign up for the next fishing trip or the peacekeepers are going to have your heads."

The two boys groaned miserably, "Augh, my hands haven't healed since the last one," Martin grumbled, showing me his scabbed-over blisters. I winced for his sake because I didn't want to be the kind of guy that reminds my friend I've been sliced open a few times whenever he shows me a tiny cut. It was around dinner time, so all the marketers were sitting behind their booths with bored faces stuffed with fish sandwiches and clam soup.

"Here Dawn," Martin said, reaching into a wooden bucket, "would your mother like…a _LOBSTER?_"

He whipped the massive lobster from the water and held it straight in front of her nose. She squealed as it spread out its legs and claws like some sort of demented red spider. I burst out laughing, and couldn't blame her a bit for screaming. With its beady little black eyes and wiggly feelers, it looked as crazy as something created in the Capitol. A tall peacekeeper with a broad chest walked up behind Martin with his arms crossed. When he spun around, he was so surprised he almost dropped the lobster.

"Oh…sorry, I was just playing…"

Martin went to go put the creature back slowly, his eyes trained on the peacekeeper's stern face. Once we heard the small _ploop_ of confirmation, we shuffled away and tried not to draw attention to ourselves even though we were snickering. Martin forced Brye to sign up for a shift on the Amelia Seabourn Vessel, even though it technically didn't need any more hands.

"_Why_ do you want this one so badly?" Brye complained, scribbling his name on the bottom line of the list.

"Because it's _Amelia Seabourn's_ ship! She might be a withered old lady now, but her granddaughters are gorgeous. Have you seen them? _Gorgeous._"

Brye rolled his eyes and latched himself back onto Dawn's hand, "I don't really care," he replied, throwing her a wink. I envied the two of them a little bit, with their easy, uncomplicated relationship. If they wanted to see each other, they would. If they didn't, they had the choice not to. For all the years I've spent hanging around women, very few of them I actually _wanted_ to see. I couldn't say I didn't have a little bit of fun; thanks to years of practice in both technique and the ability to numb my own mind, I finally found my life to be tolerable. With Annie's advice, I didn't hate myself after every night I didn't spend alone because I'd come to terms with the fact that that was just the way things were, and I couldn't change it. Oh well. I had my friends, the letters from my mother, the occasional meals eaten with Mags and other Victors who understood what I was going through. I learned I wasn't the only one who was playing prostitute in the Capitol for the rich and powerful. The blonde twins were just a step under me in popularity, as a matter of fact. They used to be more popular, but in light of my recent 'filling out', my ratings have gone nowhere but up. Even my friends and people I've spent my whole life growing up around couldn't stop themselves from staring at me.

Still, I couldn't always suppress the part of me that just wanted to hold hands with a girl from home, one that smelled like salt and knew all the same folk songs that I did. I couldn't stop wanting what Dawn and Brye had found in each other. I remembered how I thought of her that first night with Estelle and internally reprimanded myself as we walked by the tables of pretty sea glass jewelry. The girls grazed it with their eyes and then moved on so we wouldn't tease them. Once Dawn had picked out some fruit and vegetables for her mom's dinner, we made our way to the path that ran along the beach where people would carry in baskets of miscellaneous items off the beach. The sun was setting, making everything around us glow pink.

Shortly after we started on the path, I caught a glimpse of Annie picking shells out of the sand and dropping them into a big basket. She and Echo made nets and shell jewelry now to earn a little bit of their own living instead of constantly relying on Pearl. She was wearing the dress she'd worn so many years ago to her sister's wedding; it was faded and a little lackluster now. Not to mention a little frayed on the bottom which was shorter on her now than it was when she bought it. I remember the day she tore off the sash and tied a thin chorded rope around her waist instead, saying that it was too dressy with the silky ribbon and it just wasn't practical. I guess it had stretched out some too, because it was still billowy and draped easily over her more developed body. Her hair had grown out some now too. I waved hello, the string of shells around my wrist clinking in the wind. She figured out it was me and then smiled and waved back, accidentally sending the sand from her shells through the air. I laughed and turned back to my friends.

"Wow," Martin said appreciatively, "Is that really Annie Cresta? She's _beautiful_."

I snapped my face back to look at Annie, who had resumed her sweeping of the beach for shells. I don't know what it was, but Martin's comment hit me like a slap in the face.

_Annie? Beautiful?_

Yeah, I suppose she is. She'd grown up, but since I saw her so often and it happened so gradually I guess I hadn't noticed. But now I could see it. She wasn't beautiful the way Pearl was, with perfect proportions and soft edges. No, Annie looked unique. Her eyes were a little further apart than normal and flashed green with a dreamy sparkle to them I didn't see anywhere else. Her hair was long and thick and wavy, the color of chestnuts that shone in the pink sunlight. And now I could see what my mother meant when she said Annie had a 'moon face;' her cheekbones were high and smoothed over, and her chin was small, it gave her face a moon-like quality to it. But mostly I loved her round funny lips with the little dimple missing from the top one, the pale freckles that scattered across her nose, and her long eyelashes that framed her strange eyes like little wings. So suddenly Annie was beautiful to me?

_Yes, absolutely._

Then what was wrong with me? Why is there this sick feeling in my stomach?

_Because I don't like other people noticing it before I do._

"Who would have thought another Cresta would turn out to be so good looking?"

"Shut it, Martin," I said a little too harshly. He cocked an eyebrow at me and crossed his arms, "What's the matter Fin? I thought you and Annie were 'just friends'?"

"Yeah…we…I just don't like you leering at her."

"I'm not _leering_ at her, I'm just appreciating the view."

Annie was standing up straight and looking right at us, and even from the distance I could tell the exact 'what the heck are you guys looking at' expression on her face. What was coming over me? Had I really been that blind to my feelings regarding Annie until someone else expressed a desire for her? Was I really that shallow?

"Well, then…I don't know. Stop it."

Martin chuckled and held out his hands, "Alright, alright. Let's go then, Loverboy."

We moved on and I found myself reluctant to leave without her. Maybe it was just the atmosphere? My emotional turmoil from being around happy couple 'Brawn' all day? But no, I suppose it wasn't. Annie had, after all, been there for me since day one. She's the only one I dared to share my secret about the prostitution with, she's also the only one I knew that would still stick around after learning something like that. She rebuilt me, she made me better. She was a friend when I needed a friend, and a caretaker for my mother when I couldn't be. It appears lovely Annie Cresta had been right in front of me this whole time and it wasn't until now I realized how lost I'd be if she wasn't.

Annie, it appears, has crept up on me.

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

_(A week later.)_

"Fin, you look sort of sick, are you sure you're okay?" I asked, staring apprehensively at the him. Even a striking complexion couldn't hide the greenish tint his face had taken on, and heavy bags loomed under his eyes like bruises. Not only that, but every movement he made just seemed sort of sluggish.

"I'm…okay." I reached out to feel his forehead, but he pushed my hand away, "It's alright Annie, really. Just go swimming for a while or something, I'll stay here and warm up in the sun."

I frowned and tried to look him in the eyes, but he shut his and laid back against the hot sand. "Suit yourself," I sighed at last, taking off the thin shawl-scarf I had draped over my shoulders to stop them from burning. I tucked it into Fin's hand so that it wouldn't blow away and then dove into the water, relinquishing every tension the second my skin broke through the surface. I didn't like this sick Finnick, he was not very exciting company. With all the time he spent at the Capitol, flexing his muscles and kissing those girls, I barely got to see him as much as I used to. And now my quality time was being tainted; I found it to be sort of irritating. But the water took that all away and I focused on the coral and the bright fish, reaching out gently to stroke their fins before they darted away.

_I wonder what it's like in other districts, without the ocean there?_

I marveled at how my white dress wafted around me with the small currents of the waves overhead. How was it that everything could just be so spectacular under the water?

Eventually I felt bad about leaving Fin on the beach alone, so I got out. When I reached the sandy bank, I wiped the saltwater from my eyes and looked up to see Finnick staring at me.

"What?" I asked self-consciously. I looked down at my body to see if my dress was out of position, but everything was covered. A little more revealing now that it was soaked through, but I'd gone swimming with him lots of times before and he never _stared._ We were used to this, everyone in District Four was. Nudity was just really not that much of a taboo. But he just smirked a little and shook his head, laying back down on the sand.

_How annoying of him._

"Feeling any better?" I tried again, sitting down next to him. He moaned and covered his face, which I took to mean _no._ I was just letting the sun dry my hair when a guy walked up to me with a big fish slung over his shoulder.

"Hey there pretty lady, what's your name?" he asked with a toothy grin. He _was_ sort of handsome, nothing compared to the slightly incapacitated yet still chiseled Greek god next to me, but still, handsome. And more than that, practical. While Fin? Well, he was sort of an impossibility, what with being the handsomest young man in the world or something like that.

"Hello, I'm Annie Cresta. And you?"

He shook my hand and grinned wider, "Chance Liwater. Pleased to meet you, Annie. Would you care to take a walk?"

I think I was just a little too shy and a little too friendly for situations like this. While the whole idea of it made the bashful side of me cringe, the nice side of me was unwilling to reject him, whether I wanted to or not. And in truth, I sort of didn't want to reject him, but be that as it may, I had a sick friend tied to me at the moment.

"I can't right now, sorry. But I'm here often, so some other time?" I offered, smiling lightly at him. He glanced at the sick Fin—who was worryingly motionless beside me—and then nodded.

"Sounds perfect. Til another day," he said graciously, kissing my cheek and starting to walk away.

"Hey, don't just go _kissing_ random girls you don't know, you little—"

Well, suddenly Fin was alive. Chance slowed down and turned his head to look at him with a creased eyebrow.

"Fin, he was just saying good-bye. That's what people _do_ here, it wasn't a real kiss…" I hissed, grabbing his arm firmly. He begrudgingly relaxed and turned his head back facing in front of him. I mouthed an apology to Chance and waved him on before returning to the situation at hand. "What has gotten _in _to you?"

He looked miserable and shrugged, "I'm sorry. I don't know…I'm sick. When I looked up it just looked like he was kissing you like out of the blue…"

A part of me sort of wanted to blush, but I suppressed it and patted his hair, "Alright, sure."

We sat there in the sun for a little while longer, but then I decided I needed to go back home and help out a little. But when Finnick stood up, all the remaining color drained from his face and he's knees shook, threatening to give out.

"Whoa, easy," I gasped, wrapping my arms around him. He was sort of slumping over and I didn't want him to pass out and land on his face, "You must be sicker than I thought…when was the last time you had something to drink?"

He groaned and shrugged, "I don't know…not for a while."

"How long is a while?"

"Um…yesterday?"

_Oh you stupid, stupid boy. _

"Finnick, what's the matter with you? It's no wonder you're passing out, you're completely dehydrated," I scolded, pulling his arm around my shoulder so I could help him walk, "Honestly sometimes I have no idea how you won those Games."

I half walked, half dragged him to my house. By the time I reached the front door, I was ready to collapse myself. Echo took us in with a bemused expression and then helped me get him up the stairs. We put him in my bed and put a damp cloth on his forehead before trying to force-feed him some water. How did he let himself get into such a state? Yesterday he was with me and he said his stomach only hurt a little bit, I had no idea I was going to have to carry him from the beach the next day.

In the evening I ventured back upstairs with a pitcher of water in hand, hoping he'd be in a better state than before. I knocked lightly before just letting myself in, finding him asleep in the same position as before.

"Finnick, wake up. You've got to drink some more," I said gently, shaking his shoulder. He's eyes cracked open and then found me face, opening a little bit more.

"What?" he said groggily, as if nothing made sense. I held up the pitcher with enough enthusiasm to cause some of it to slosh out onto the floor.

"Whoops."

He cracked a smile and moved into a sitting position, "Here, I can do it myself."

I let him drink his fill and sat down at the foot of the bed, wiggling his toes through the blanket until he eventually gave me a light kick, "That. _Tickles_."

I grinned devilishly and snatched my hand away, "So sorry."

He chuckled and put down the pitcher, "No you're not."

"Maybe not," I shrugged, "You're really not well enough to do anything about it."

We laughed for a while, and I could see the color coming back to his face.

"You're looking a lot better now," I told him, feeling his forehead. No fever or anything.

"I am feeling better. Turns out sleep and water go a long way."

We chatted some more I decided he needed to sleep a little bit longer. Plus, I sort of just wanted him to stick around. Before I left though, he reached out and grabbed my wrist.

"Annie, wait."

Something in his voice made my heart speed up. What was he going to say?

'_Hey I just want you to know I'm going to be a father.'_

'_Hey I appreciate all you've done for me, but I don't think we should be friends anymore.'_

'_I'm moving to the Capitol…'_

"What?"

He didn't let go of my wrist, but his face dropped, giving it a sincere effect. "I just wanted to say thank you for sticking with me for these past few years, even though you know…what you know."

_What the heck is wrong with him?_

"Oh, Fin. I think you really need to get some sleep…"

He shook his head, but he did look dizzy to me. "Can you just tell me why?"

"Why what?"

"Why you stayed."

_Oh I don't know, because I'm hopeless?_

I kissed him on the cheek and patted his head affectionately, "Because I'm a basket case, Honey." I left because in truth I couldn't tell him. I was sweet and shy Annie Cresta with no parents and an older sister everyone thinks is the most beautiful. I wasn't exotic, interesting, or particularly stunning. I couldn't tell the Great Finnick Odair, the Golden Boy, the truth about why I stuck by him this whole time. What with his perfect jawline, his flawless cheekbones, the ocean-green eyes, bronze messy hair, and sculpted body. No, I couldn't tell the truth. Because then I would lose him, I was almost sure of it. Now if I knew what was good for me I'd be completely sure of it, but I couldn't trump that hope—that small, tiny, ounce of hope that was sapping the life out of my sense of reality.

I went down stairs and sat down at the table while Pearl sat on a stool in the kitchen, waiting for something to get done baking. Pearl and I had reached an understanding; I treated her occasional rendezvous like I did Finnick's life in the Capitol back before I knew the truth. I just acted as if it wasn't happening and it made everything a lot more civil between me and my sister. We love each other, always have and always will, but it's nicer not to have a big blow out fight once a month.

A few hours passed. Echo got bored and left to find her friends. I checked on Finnick, but he was sleeping again so I left. Pearl was still in the kitchen and I started to notice her bored disposition getting anxious, alluding to the pre-wedding jitters she used to get. The house was getting colder too because the sun was going down, which just created more tension.

"Pearl…are you okay?"

That's when Raff came ripping through the doorway. Pearl leapt up and her face transformed into a complete snarl. The man's face was red and sweaty with anger and his chest heaved up and down as if he'd been running for some time. I remembered him—the man who came before the wedding and upset my sister. The 'older' friend. My hands stiffened against the table and I watched them with wide, unblinking eyes.

"I thought I told you to meet me," he slurred, pointing at Pearl with an unsteady hand.

_Drunk,_ I thought, _very drunk._

Pearl's eyebrows creased over her eyes and she took a stance as if she were a cat, ready to strike. "And I told _you_ to leave me alone."

Raff laughed and looked around the room to see if anyone else was, "Oh, that's rich. I don't remember asking."

He took a step forward and Pearl immediately tensed and reached for a pan hanging over the sink. "Get _away_ from me. _GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!"_

_Stephen…where are you?_

"I can't do that," Raff chuckled, taking another step closer to her, "I haven't gotten what I came for."

Pearl swung at his outstretched hand, which only made him laugh more. "You are such a feisty little firecracker, aren't you?"

"Go away!" Pearl barked, raising the pan over her head. Raff patted his stomach as he gurgled to himself and then turned, his eyes locking right on me. My blood froze and every hair on my body stood on end.

"Hello, Beautiful."

He lunged at me and there was nothing I could do to resist him. Pearl was shrieking and crashing over things in the background as he pulled me into the neighboring room with his hand digging into my mouth. We twisted around just in time to see Pearl bringing to pan down when the door slammed shut and locked, the sound of the impact against the wood resounding in my ears.

And that's when I really started to panic. Pearl was screaming and banging on the door outside, but I was trapped in here with _him._ He let go of my mouth and I took the opportunity to scream and kick him in the shins, stumbling over myself to get to the window. If I could only get to the _window_…

"I don't think so."

He grabbed me by the ankle, which caused me to trip and slam my head against the windowsill. My wrist got caught underneath me and twisted painfully as he dragged me back across the floor. I screamed again and tried to kick, but he had a firm grip. When he let go I stood up, hoping to run for it or open the door, but his fist bore into my ribs, knocking all the wind out of me. "Hey Pearl," he sang drunkly, "I've gotcher sister and there's nothin' you can do about it!" Three blows to the abdomen and I was on the ground, just trying to get air back in my lungs. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears and my eyes watered with the exertion and the wreak seeping off of Raff's skin.

"Come here, you," he growled, pulling me back up by the hair. My ribs seared with pain, causing me to yelp involuntarily.

"Annie?" I heard Finnick's voice call through the door, "Annie!"

"Finnick HELP ME!" I screamed as the man pressed me up against his chest. He slammed his hand over my mouth and drove me into the wall. I held up my hand to push his face away, but he grabbed it and twisted my injured wrist even more. I wanted to cry, to scream, but I couldn't.

"Kiss me," Raff slurred, pouring his alcoholic smog breath into my mouth. I almost gagged when suddenly we were crashing to the floor. Finnick was over top of Raff, pinning him down to the wood. He punched him multiple times with that red angry face I saw in the arena nearly five years ago. Then Pearl was at his side and placed a hand on his back to stop him.

"Wait," she said in a determined voice, "I want to do it."

Finnick looked between her and Raff and once at me, then got up to let Pearl in on the action. Raff just moaned and rolled over, holding his face, when Pearl delivered a swift, sound kick straight between his legs. He bellowed a ridiculous, drunken wail and curled up, calling us all assorted names. Finnick grabbed the man by his scruff and threw him straight through the front door so he crashed face first into the dirt.

"Good riddance!" Pearl shouted after him. Her inane temper was in full swing, so I watched her pick up the broom and thrash him with it as he struggled to run away. I hadn't moved from my spot on the floor the whole time and from down there I couldn't help but notice how attractive it was to have Finnick come in to protect me. Now that Raff was gone and he'd alerted authorities to arrest him, all his attention turned to me.

"Annie…" he said, kneeling down in front of me, "Are you okay?"

I nodded, though in reality I was in a lot of pain. But I didn't want to worry them…or burden them. So I kept my ribs and wrist problems to myself. Those I could cover up easily enough while they healed. As for any bumps on my head, there's no talking out of those.

"I'm okay."

Fin's face was creased with concern as his hands gently brushed over my forehead, searching for abnormalities. I winced when he got to the spot I hit on the windowsill and his face turned red with anger.

"I'm going to tear that man apart," he snarled. I shook my head and then looked up to see Pearl standing above us, looking dismal.

"Are _you_ okay?" I asked her. She was shaking slightly and had her arms folded protectively over her chest.

"I'm fine. You?"

"I'm fine. Just a few bruises. He didn't do anything serious."

She nodded and focused on some other part of the room so she could tune out and be alone in her thoughts. I turned my attention back to Fin who was staring at the welt on my head. "It's no big deal Finnick, he didn't even hit me. I tripped and hit my head off the windowsill, but I'm alive."

I don't know why I was lying. But the shy part of me and the caring part of me teamed up, because I didn't want them to get more upset and I also didn't want them to drown me in concern because he had hit me. So lying was easier.

He shook his head, "It's just that…I mean like, this was my one chance to help _you_, and you still got hurt. It's just frustrating that I can't measure up."

"Finnick," I whispered, using a choice tone, "it's never been a competition. You don't owe me anything."

He smiled sadly and then stood, signifying the end of the conversation. He offered me his hand, and asked, "Can you stand up?"

I let him pull me up and support me in case I lost my balance or something. While I did ache a lot, I don't think I needed him to hold me up. But I was kind of enjoying his attention, so I let it happen anyway. He walked me up the stairs and back into my room, where I could see the trail he left behind while apparently frantically trying to get downstairs. My vase was knocked off the nightstand and the blankets were pulled as far as the door. I laughed a little and then stopped, hoping he didn't notice my wince.

"Yeah…sorry about that. I woke up to a lot of screaming and just kind of panicked."

"I think, seeing as you broke down the door and rescued me, I'll forgive it. Just this once."

He grinned and squeezed my shoulder, "Oh, good."

Pearl came up a moment later with some ice wrapped in a cloth, "Here," she said, plopping it in my hand, "put this on your head."

While I did, Finnick decided that he wanted to go make sure the authorities had Raff in custody and then go home. He kissed me and Pearl on the cheek, promised to check up on things tomorrow, and then left. When the door was shut all the light pretences my sister and I had put up completely fell.

"Pearl, who _was_ that guy?"

"Raff."

I waited for her to go on, so she sighed and folded her arms tightly across her chest again; "When our parents died, I had to do a lot of awful things to keep us alive and out of the streets. Echo was practically a baby and you…well, it's just, you're so fragile, Annie. I had to protect you guys and so I did what I had to do."

I looked at her carefully, because it was weird that this didn't surprise me. "You aren't still…you know…"

"No," she shook her head, "No, but Raff…he never really forgot about me. I guess I understand your friend a little better than you thought."

_Friend? Oh, Fin? But she didn't know…_

_Well I suppose it wouldn't be too hard to figure out._

I pursed me lips and waited to see if she had anything more to say for herself. She looked at me as if searching my eyes for something, probably checking to see if I was judging her yet. "I do love Stephen, just so you know. This marriage wasn't all about the money or the shelter. I mean, at first it was. You didn't realize how desperate we were, you had no idea how close I was to losing you two to the orphanage. We were going to starve…but, Stephen provided everything. He gave us fish and fruit and got me a connection in the market so I could make fishing nets and get paid so I could keep our dinky little hut. But he's so smart and genuine, I couldn't help but fall in love with him…"

"And the other boys?" I asked, a sour tint to my voice.

She blushed and tightened her arms, "I never said I was a _good_ person. But I'm trying."

We parted after that. I stayed in my room and iced my ribs and wrist and head while she worked on cleaning up the mess until Stephen came home. I tried not to think about young Pearl, roaming the streets in search of someone…anyone that would take her while Echo and I were at home sleeping. I was about the age now that she was when she took over for the family…but I couldn't fathom going out and doing what she did. But then again, she was right, I am fragile. Pearl was meant to be strong. But how sad the life of my older sister was, and I never even knew it.

I was surprised that I wasn't scared by what happened today. It was almost like it didn't happen, except for the physical evidence. It was just some bizarre phenomenon that happened when my world and Pearl's world intersected at the wrong spots. No, when I finally decided to sleep, the only thought in my mind was Finnick, how he looked when he came crashing into the room and took Raff out. How it made me blush when I thought of how angry he was, just because someone had hurt me. I suppose a friend or brother would have acted like that…so I couldn't get too excited…but I couldn't stop myself from hoping that a little bit of that emotion was inspired by something a bit more.

And that's why I wasn't the least bit angry when I woke up to Finnick coming quietly through my door later that night, when everything was dark except the moon. I was, however, a little surprised.

"What are you doing," I whispered, trying to see him through the dark. He threw me an apologetic smile and took a few steps closer.

"Well, I'm alone in my house and I couldn't help but feel bad that I left you alone after what happened today. So I thought I'd just come back and stand guard so you can sleep…or something."

I laughed embarrassedly and was thankful for the darkness that hid my red face. "Okay then," I responded, "Stay as long as you'd like."

He hopped onto the bed beside me, keeping a safe distance and sitting up with his back against the dashboard, staring out the window. Now that my eyes had adjusted I could see the striking way the moon hit his facial features.

_I wonder exactly how many other girls have noticed the same thing._

"Go to sleep, Annie," Fin told me, his eyes still fixated out the window, "You're safe." It startled me a little, but then I settled down deep into the covers and closed my eyes. His body was radiating heat beside me, and I found it to be comforting but my thoughts still wouldn't settle. It wasn't until Finnick started playing with my hair that my mind let me sink into sleep.


	19. Chapter 19

_Short, sweet, and to the point. Enjoy! (oh and i still need to know if im allowed to post a link to the pics)_

**19**

**What I Live For**

I hung up the phone with a sick feeling in my mouth. Two days and I would be back in the Capitol. So how should I spend these last few days before my return to reality?

"Annie," I called, knocking on her front door, "it's Finnick."

She opened the door and I couldn't help but smile. Beautiful Annie, with her freckles and her lips and her worrying disregard for all my negative attributes. I held up the paddle I had in my hand with an enthusiastic grin, "Want to go for a boat ride?"

She smiled and nodded, running inside to grab us a lunch before joining me. "Any nightmares?" I asked, watching her closely.

"Not one. I'm telling you Fin, I really haven't been traumatized by this. You got there before anything really bad happened."

She'd been reassuring me that she hadn't been scared after the attack for the past two days, but I didn't believe her. Annie was many things, but strength wasn't one of them. I was hard for me to imagine she had absolutely _no_ after effects from the attack besides a bump on her head.

We hopped into the dingy little boat and paddled out just far enough that we'd still be able to swim to shore if we needed to. I dropped the little anchor and sprawled back with my arms folded behind my back. The sun warmed my face and baked my hair making me all comfortable and sleepy. Annie crawled down beside me and tossed her hair over my chest and rested her head on my shoulder. I could just hope she was far enough up that she couldn't hear my heart pounding in my chest.

_Would it really be that bad if she knew?_

I thought about it and then decided that yes, it would very much be. Annie was too kind to leave me behind when she learned about my secret, but as far as anything romantic, that probably got trumped. How could she love me, knowing that even if I promised myself to her I'd still have to go to the Capitol and pretend like she didn't exist and share myself with countless others? She deserved better than that. I could give her anything she wanted, I could protect her and love her and think about her. But I'd never be able to change the past; to take back what I already gave away. She deserved someone that was going to be able to be with her and only her.

But the thought of Annie with someone else, holding some stranger's hand and kissing his lips…to picture Annie marrying another man and spending every morning in his arms. That made my stomach twist. But it wasn't possible for me to have both. Annie couldn't be happy with me, but I couldn't be happy without her. So I'd just have to take the latter.

After laying there for a while, I started to feel my stomach growl. Annie must have heard it too because she giggled this choky little laugh and sat up.

"What's wrong with your laugh?" I asked her with a cocked eyebrow. It sounded like she was trying almost not to laugh.

"Oh I have no idea, it's been doing that. Now, let's find the food," she said dismissively. The boat wasn't very big, so we figured out pretty quick that our basket of food was back on the shore.

"I cannot believe I _forgot_ it," Annie sighed, squinting at the dock. It was there, I could see it, laughing at us.

"No problem," I shrugged, pulling off my shirt, "I wanted to go for a swim anyway."

I dove in the water with a little too much vigor, capsizing the boat with me.

"Aug!" Annie cried out in surprise, her head popping out of the water next to the overturned boat. I laughed and helped her flip the boat back over.

"There," I said, starting to swim away, "You can climb back in now, right?"

She nodded and so I turned around and dove underwater, swimming for the dock. I'd gotten a lot faster lately, so in just a minute I was already half way. I turned around and saw Annie still trying to pull herself into the boat, but having a clumsy time of it. She reached up with her right hand and yanked down the edge, trying to get a leg up into it, but it was start to fill up with water and she'd have to stop. I shook my head and kept swimming, finally reaching the dock and swinging myself up. Yep, there was our basket.

_Good, I'm famished. _

I reached inside and pulled out a bread roll, sinking my teeth into it happily.

"Fin!"

Annie's voice was just a tiny little echo over the water, but I could still make out most of her words. I turned around with the bread still in my hand, and spotted her out in the water. I sprayed crumbs when I laughed. She had nearly sunk the boat it was so full of water and she was still struggling to get in.

"Come on Annie!" I called out to her, "It's not like you can't swim!"

Her response got lost in a gurgle as she tried once more to pull herself into the boat, but to no avail. Now the boat was starting to go down and I got angry.

"Annie, you're sinking my boat!"

She splashed the water in frustration and whipped her head around to look at me. Her face was just a small white dot in the water, but I could tell she wasn't happy. She reached out again for the boat, but the second she put weight on it, the whole thing went down.

_Well…shit._

"Come on," I called, trying to hide the disappointment in my voice, "Swim on in then."

I was going to turn for the basket, but I noticed she wasn't going anywhere. There was a lot of splashing, but I couldn't see any progress.

"Annie?" I asked, my voice hitting an octave up. What was she doing?

"Fin!" Her high voice gurgled, splitting the air over the waves. My heart dropped because now I could see she was in trouble. Annie was drowning out there, I'd been standing here on the dock eating a roll.

"ANNIE!" I shouted, kicking off my waterlogged sandals, "SWIM!"

Apparently she couldn't. I dove into the water and started paddling as fast as I could, trying to focus on my strokes and kicking and not the way my heart was threatening to thud out of my chest. Why was the universe so determined to hurt her lately?

I kept calling her name and listening for her response. I was almost there, I had to be almost there.

'Annie?"

No response. I tried again, but still got nothing. I started to get flashes of my father, how he thrashed and twisted until a shark found him and sank its teeth into his leg.

"ANNIE!"

I couldn't start panicking, that wouldn't help either of us. I swam until I held my breath and dove deep under the water, trying to see through the blurry blue water.

_You're going to lose everything._

I heart wrenched and I twisted around, searching for any sign of her. In a last ditch effort, I broke surface again and screamed her name, listening to the echo bounce around the air into nothing. And then I saw the disturbance on the water, the small break of a hand clawing at the surface. It was closer to shore than I had measured, so I guess she did try to swim for it a bit.

And I went right by her.

So I dove under water again and kept my eyes open, swimming frantically until I caught the white glow of her dress underwater. When she came into full view, I had this horrible flash of my old nightmare. Of Marina, emaciated, suspended under the water in a floating white dress. Only it was Annie now, and she was still breathing. She had to be.

I torpedoed to her and wrapped my arm around her waist, kicking for the surface.

_Air._

I gasped as soon as the cold breeze hit my face and then jerked Annie's head up, not waiting to see if she breathed or not. I had to get to the shore I was ever going to be able to help her.

Unfortunately the process was a lot slower when your dragging someone along with you. Finally my feet made contact with the mushy bottom of sand and I booked it, using both my arms to hold Annie up while letting my legs propel me for the beach. Waves ripped over us, making me lose my balance several times. Finally I splashed onto the open sand and collapsed, pulling Annie up on the sand. Her eyes were closed and her lips were a bad shade of blue.

_No. No no no no no._

_Not again._

I calmed myself down with a quick breath and then got to work, forcing air into her lungs and then pumped her heart back to life. Something felt wrong when I pushed down though, and I realized her ribs were what felt off.

_How did she hurt her ribs?_

I gave her another push and to my relief, she came to life and started coughing. She had so much sea water in her lungs, but the coughing made her tense up rather than relax.

"Annie?" I said in a small voice. She stopped coughing, but her whole face was twisted up as if she was in a lot of pain. I didn't want to touch her and make it worse, so I just sat there helplessly until she was able to talk.

She calmed herself down and then opened her eyes, finding me. I breathed in relief and pulled her up over my lap so I could press my face into her neck. I could feel the blood pulsing under her cold wet skin and couldn't stop the respite I found in it. She was saying something, and stroking my hair, but I wasn't listening. I lifted my eyes and saw her touching my face with her right hand, but the left was dropped awkwardly at her side, a swollen purple quality to it.

"Annie, what is this?" I choked, gesturing at her wrist. But when I leaned over her I pushed against her ribs and she gasped, so I had to withdrawal. "Annie…"

_I'm saying your name a lot today._

Now I was a little angry again. "You _did_ get hurt, Raff did hurt you," I said accusingly. She was looking up at me with an almost guilty expression in her eyes.

"I didn't want you guys to worry…" she rasped.

"You almost just drowned!" I cried, "you almost just died because you didn't tell me you were hurt. Annie…why would you—how could you be so…."

"Fin, it's okay," she was whispering, stroking the side of my face comfortingly.

"It's not okay!" I shouted back, my voice catching the octave again. She was still looking at me, and suddenly my eyes were locked in hers.

"It's okay Fin," she continued, "It's alright. I'm safe. I'm alive. I didn't die, it's okay."

"Annie," I dismissed her, still holding eye contact, "You have no idea…no clue how…"

_Why couldn't I get my damn mouth to work?_

"Fin."

Her hand stopped stroking my hair and stayed on the side of my cheek. Annie's misty eyes bore into mine, the eyelids still trapping droplets of water on them. It was like a rip tide, the feeling I felt in the arena, that pulled me in. I had no choice, no control. So I tightened my arms around her body and pressed my lips to hers.

I think my chest might explode.

I'd kissed countless girls before, smelled their skin and felt their hair. But none of them, absolutely none, measured up to this. All the times I admired her puffy lips and now that I felt them I couldn't let it go. Her skin smelled like salt, like the ocean, like a real person. And her hair was matted up with the saltwater and clung to my hands in tiny, wavy ropes. There was sand there too, sitting like tiny electrifying orbs on our skin.

When I finally came away and dared to open my eyes, I was happy to find her green orbs still staring back at mine. A million thoughts, a million words spun around in my head, but my lips just opened and closed wordlessly like a surfaced fish. This time she snaked her arm around my neck and pulled herself up, kissing me again. And I don't think, despite everything that had just happened, I could be any happier.

Annie released me with a wince and fell back into my arms, my hand catching her head. When she looked at me, she smiled and brushed my concerned frown with her sand-coated hand.

"Maybe we could get inside somewhere?" she asked weakly, "I did almost _die_ today, after all."

_Right. Of course. Why on earth was I still on this cold wet beach?_

I stood and then gingerly lifted her up, her skinny body fitting easily into my arms. She rested her head against my chest and laid her bad wrist tentatively on her stomach. My adrenaline was starting to wear off, and the fatigue that three miles of frantic swimming caused starting to creep up into my legs. But Annie was in my arms, she trusted me, so I made myself keep going.

"I'm sorry I sunk your boat," she whispered quietly, the breeze making her shiver. A wave of guilt and disappointment washed over me, thinking about my father's boat at the bottom of the sea.

"It's not your fault," I told her firmly.

"It sort of is," she replied. "I am the one that sunk it."

"Don't worry about it."

"But—"

I stopped walking and made sure she was looking at me, "I'm just happy you're alive, alright? So, that's enough on that."

She fell silent but I could tell she still felt badly. There wasn't a lot I could do to help that, so I just kept walking until I reached the closest familiar house, which just so happened to be Martin's. I sort of wanted to keep walking, to make the extra stretch to Annie's house, but I don't think my legs would do it. I kicked the door because I couldn't put Annie down, and waited, hoping his parents would answer instead of Martin himself. But there he was, eagerly coming to greet whoever had come to see him. But his expression fell when he saw the state of us.

"What the hell happened to you guys?" he asked incredulously, looking us up and down.

"We had an accident, can we come in please?" I asked, feeling my legs starting to shake. He nodded quickly and swung open the door wide, allowing us in. I found the skinny bed I knew to be his and laid her down on it, trying not to jostle anything and hurt her.

Martin came in with a thick towel and some hot water. He handed the steaming mug to me and then went about drying Annie off. I know he was just trying to help, that this was the most basic step in helping someone cold and wet, but I didn't like it. I knew Martin wouldn't leer at her through her soaked dress, he wouldn't touch her anywhere too intimate, but I couldn't help but be tense with the thought that he might. Even if by accident.

"Be careful of her ribs," I said quickly, before he got there, "she hurt them."

He stopped and looked up at me, an almost annoyed expression crossing his face. "Okay, fine. You two owe this story to me later. Annie, you can't stay in that wet dress, you'll get sick. I'm going to get my sister so she can help you. Finnick, come on."

Annie shook her head, "I don't want Finnick to go…"

Martin frowned and gave me a stern look, "But he's going to. Just for a little while."

It was weird, seeing this mature side of Martin when I was so used to him just cracking jokes. But he was right, I shouldn't stay.

"I'll be right back," I told her before following him out of the room. His sister, Angela, frowned at us but grabbed a warm dress from the mantel and disappeared into Martin's room. In the meantime, he shoved some of his own clothes into my hand and made me change, hanging the wet stuff out the window. It did feel better, the dry clothes and hot drink. But I was worried about getting Annie to a doctor. Did she not realize how broken bones can set wrong if not treated properly? I hoped for her sake they weren't.

We were allowed to come back in, so Martin and I did, handing her a hot mug of water. She drank it eagerly and threw us a smile to reassure us she was okay. Martin sat down but I stayed beside her, sitting halfway on the bed.

"I'm going to go get Pearl," Angela told us. Annie's face dropped and she started fiddling with her dress nervously.

"What?" Martin asked, looking at her from his spot on the chair.

"She's going to kill me," Annie answered, with a nervous laugh. I smiled and kissed her forehead.

"Only a little bit."

o-o-o-o-o-o

Annie had to stay at the health center for the next day so that they could make sure her ribs set correctly. I sat at home, trying to summon the courage to call the number. Every time I punched in half the numbers, I chickened out and hung up. I thought of my kiss with Annie on the beach, took a deep breath, and then hit the buttons and pinned the phone against my ear before I could hang up again.

"Finnick, good to hear from you," Ivan greeted on the other end. I could hear the oiliness in his voice even with miles between us.

"Ivan…I have a question," I said, trying to sound confident, "I know you requested that I come in tomorrow for the Capitol, but…I would like to cancel."

"Oh? Why's that?"

"Something came up," I said quickly, "Can I do that? I'll come in again at a later point, but I want to take a break for a while."

"Why, Finnyboy, you can do whatever you like."

_Well, that's better than what I was hoping for._

"So, I can stay?"

"It's your choice."

I sighed and nodded, even though he couldn't see me, "Okay then. I'm going to stay."

"Good-bye, Finnick."

He hung up and I stared at the phone in disbelief. Was it really that easy?

_Who cares?_

I ran all the way to the health center to find Annie. At that point her sisters had left and she was sitting by herself in the white room, playing with her blanket. I came bursting in, startling her.

"What? What are you so happy about?" she asked with wide eyes. I walked straight for her, grabbed her shoulders and kissed her full on the lips.

"I called the Capitol, they're letting me take a holiday," I told her with a grin. Up close I found a small little freckle between her eyes I'd never noticed before. "My time is yours."

She smiled, her eyes turning into little sparkling crescents. "Perfect," she laughed, "but unfortunately I'm a little incapacitated right now. So, sit with me a while?"

I nodded and sat down beside her, glancing nervously at her wrapped up wrist. She closed her eyes and laid her head on my chest, allowing me to wrap my arms around her shoulders. It was almost like, if I let her go, it might all disappear and I'd be back at the beach with a dead Annie instead of a living one. But here I could hold her close to me, rest my head on hers, take in the scent her hair with every breath. Every second was sacred, because with Annie I didn't have to pretend to be who I wasn't. I could be all of my charms and all of my flaws and truths and apparently it didn't matter, because she stayed anyway. I needed to treasure every moment I had with her, because it was starting to become the time I lived for.

I guess I should tell her that someday.


	20. Chapter 20

**20**

**Life and Death**

Is it possible to be too happy? Too content with life just the way it is?

When I was released from the health center I still had to spend a lot of time in bed so my ribs could heal. Everyday Finnick came to see me, so much so he didn't even knock anymore. Sometimes I would make him read to me or we'd work on complex knots and make nets. One day, just to mix things up, I turned on the television to the music channel and watched Finnick give Echo dance lessons. Stephen came up and watched for a while, offering pieces of encouragement when she got lost.

"Ah, right foot Echo," Finnick corrected her with a grin. They'd been on this same step for ten minutes now. She stomped in frustration, so Stephen swept fully into the room with his hand held out daintily. Fin caught on and bowed to him graciously, extending his own hand.

"May I have this dance?"

Stephen wrinkled his nose and copied a Capitol woman's accent perfectly, "Why, yes, I would _love_ to, you handsome thing you."

The two looked so funny together, embraced and swirling around the room with broad, graceful movements. I had to clench my jaw as tightly as I could to stop myself from laughing too much. They performed the step Echo had been trying to master easily, and finished with Finnick dipping Stephen so low, his hair nearly brushed the ground. Echo and I clapped and cheered, completely delighted with the performance.

At night sometimes Finnick would appease Pearl and go home, but more often than not he would stay with me and play with my hair until I fell asleep. I felt safer when he was there, stronger even. Not to mention completely and irrevocably happy. Every morning that I'd wake up to find him passed out next to me, I couldn't help but wonder how on earth someone so beautiful could want someone like me. One day he woke first, so when I opened my eyes I was surprised to see his staring back at me.

"What?"

"I like how you look when you sleep," he told me, tapping my nose with his finger, "You look like you're floating."

_Whatever that means._

"I don't like it Annie," Pearl told me one day after he left, "You two spending the night together all the time is a recipe for bad news."

I rolled my eyes, "We're not _doing_ anything Pearl, we're just sleeping."

"Yeah, that's what you say now."

"Look," I pleaded, "It's different. I don't want to explain why but just trust me, you don't have to worry about that."

She stared at me for a moment and then sighed, "Fine. But you better be telling the truth. I'm the only one around here that should be carrying a baby."

I laughed, "Yeah, I guess…wait."

A slow smile crept across her lips and she nodded, confirming my thoughts, "Stephen and I are pregnant."

I shouted for joy and planted a kiss right on her cheek, squeezing her tightly with my arms. My life just kept getting better and better.

When I was finally allowed to leave the house, the first thing I did was find Finnick and drag him to the beach. If there was one thing I missed more than anything else, it was swimming. But now that the walls were down between us, I didn't have to hold back. When we were underwater, his bronze hair looked like coppery fire, and now if I wanted to reach out and touch it, I could. And he'd smile when I did and tap my nose with his finger. The best part was that it had been several months and the Capitol hadn't called once. He said they probably found someone new to replace him. It seemed my whole life was floating in some sort of bliss cloud that I couldn't come down from.

One day we were on the beach together while the sun was setting. He had his back propped up against a tree and I was set up against his chest so that the back of my head rested on his shoulder. He tucked back my hair and kissed the crook of my neck, sending tingles down my spine.

"When did you know?" he asked, his breath tickling my skin.

"Know what?" _When I became completely hopeless? _"I honestly don't know. It started when you left I think. I wanted to be your friend so badly, and then all of a sudden you were on a screen and I just prayed every night that you wouldn't die. Even after you came home, I was so irritated with you, but I had no reason to be because we weren't really friends. I don't make sense to myself…" I paused and sighed, not liking the taste of some of the old memories in my mouth, "But I knew something was up when you started returning to the Capitol. I knew I shouldn't care about who you were with and what you were doing, but I did. And then for a while I just accepted it and moved on. But you just kept coming _back_."

Finnick laughed quietly; I could feel his chest rising and falling under my back. I made an indignant face and punched his leg, "Fine, why don't _you_ answer the question yourself there, Casanova."

"Who's Casanova?"

"Um…I don't know. Old expression I guess."

He laughed again and kissed the back of my head, "And I wasn't laughing at _you._ I was laughing at me. Because you're right. I did keep coming back. I can imagine that was a little annoying for you."

I shrugged, "Can't complain."

We sat there a while, then I got bored and turned around so the fronts of our bodies were flattened together. He looked down at my face quizzically.

"You didn't answer the question," I informed him. He rewarded me with one of his melting smiles.

"I don't really know either. You crept up on me. One moment I was just appreciating the fact you were in my life, then the next I realized I wouldn't have a life without you."

He laughed and rolled his eyes at himself, "I sound like a pompous windbag."

I giggled and leaned up to kiss his nose, "Only a little."

His arms coiled around my body and hugged me to him, then our lips met and the flames erupted in my chest. Sometimes kissing Finnick was sweet and gentle and made me feel like the only girl in the world. Sometimes—like right now—they lit me on fire.

Finnick, well, he was a _very_ good kisser.

"We should head home," I said finally when I was out of breath. Fin pursed his lips and then wiped the sand off my arms and nodded, allowing me to untangle myself from him before he stood. I laughed when he turned around, "Fin, you've got half the beach on your back."

He craned his neck so he could see then looked at me, "Well then, don't be shy, brush it off!"

I got the worst of it off and drew a smiley face in what was remaining. He took my hand and we walked back to my house while there was still a glow of orange and pink left in the air. I turned, but instead of saying good-bye, he just slipped his hands into my hair and kissed me with enough passion to make my heart skip, but enough gentleness to make my knees quiver. I wonder what it felt like for him when we kissed. Surely I couldn't transmit the kind of electricity he did. Besides simple physical prowess, I had a _lot_ less experience with when it came to the lips department. But he seemed to keep coming back, so I wasn't going to protest.

We only came away from each other when we heard Pearl's knuckles rapping the nearby window impatiently. Fin gave me one of his impish grins and his eyes twinkled with mischief.

"Don't mess with her," I told him sternly, "she's pregnant. She'll have your head on a spike."

He rolled his eyes, "I _did_ win the Hunger Games, I think I can handle it."

"I'd prefer you didn't try."

Fin sighed and kissed my cheek, "See you tomorrow then."

"Tomorrow."

I mean, honestly, could it get better?

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

Mags and I sat in my house with an abandoned card game between us and cups of tea snuggled into our hands. I couldn't help but notice how she had aged in the past four years. I guess I shouldn't be surprised, and yet, I was.

"I'm supposed to tell you that you're mentoring with me this year," Mags said casually, sipping her tea. My heart sank a few feet, but I guess I knew to expect this. I couldn't stay away from the Capitol forever.

"Alright.'

Mags appraised me through her aged eyes, "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," I sighed, shifting my weight, "I've just really enjoyed my time at home. It's the life that I thought I'd have after I won, not the one I got."

"You've been spending a lot of time with Annie Cresta I've noticed," she said knowingly. I smiled and scratched the back of my head.

"Guilty as charged."

"I'm happy for you, honey."

"Thanks Mags."

"But please," she gave me a worried look, "be careful."

I nodded and then scooted closer to her, "Tell me Mags," I said in a mock seductive voice, "how did you know you wanted to marry your husband? What..." I leaned in close and peered at her through my eyelashes, "_attracted you to him?"_

She laughed and pushed me away good naturedly, "Get away you dirty child." That of course just meant I squeezed closer and draped my arm around her.

"Seriously though," I pressed, "how did you know he was the only one out there. A beautiful woman such as yourself must've had options."

"Oh stop," she groaned, rolling her eyes. But they twinkled, she thought I was funny. "But seriously? Okay, let me see…well, he had these sparkly eyes that always lit up when he saw me. I liked that…"

"And?"

"His laugh. He had such a belly laugh, it always came right from the heart. I could always count on him to be there for me, even when I got out of the arena. He was the only one I could talk to about what went on in there. He understood, he actually made me laugh. I just realized that I needed him in my life and never let him go."

She looked sad for a moment and studied her wrinkly hands, "Of course, no one can stay forever. He got sick and in the end I had to say good-bye. But I would never have had a decent life without him."

"I'm sorry Mags."

She smiled and pinched my chin, "Don't be. You have better things to worry about other than the sorrows of an old lady. If this Annie is anything like my George, than I'm sure you have _plenty_ on your mind right now."

"As a matter of fact, I do. Care to play the part of my wise role-model?"

Mags nodded and folded her hands, assuming an attentive expression. I sat across from her and noticed, I don't think she could sit up straight properly anymore.

"I have a problem," I said definitely, using the floor as my invisible drawing paper. "If I could spend every waking day of my life with Annie, I would. But—"

"Why?" Mags cut in. I looked at her like it was obvious.

"Because I can't make it without her. I never would've gotten this far."

"Just checking. Go on."

"Okay, so here's the issue. What if I'm called to do things with other women in the Capitol? I have no idea how long I've got to this grace period, but what if I marry her? What if Annie and I get married, have a kid, and then all of a sudden I have to go sleep with a complete stranger. How can that support a healthy, beneficial relationship?"

"Finnick Odair, she is seventeen, you are _not_ getting married and having children at that age."

I shook my head, "This is hypothetical, in-the-future stuff."

She narrowed her eyes and then shrugged, "Honey, if she knows that that already is part of your package, I don't think she really cares. And will it bother her? Yes. But if she's got half a brain, she'll know you're doing it to protect your loved ones. Not because you want to. So it doesn't matter."

I sighed and nodded, trying to believe that. I knew how I'd feel if the tables were turned and Annie was the one going to the Capitol. I'd be furious.

_Not at her though._

I supposed not. But anyone with any self-respect wasn't going to feel okay with their partner sleeping around with others. That was a fact of nature and there was no way around it.

Then again, Annie didn't really follow any of the laws of nature. She was so delicate and fragile, she should've broken like a glass doll a few years after birth. But she still stood today, after some trials too. She spent her leisure time in the arms of a renown murderer and felt so safe she could fall asleep. She was graceful enough to look like she was floating even though she was walking on the same ground as everybody else. Her face was unique. Her hair was unpredictable. Her eyes were bottomless pools. And when she saw an injured, pathetic boy on the beach, she helped him. I couldn't say that I would've sought Annie out to help her after a return from the arena. If the tables had been turned, I probably would've been too self-absorbed and blind to see her. I would've missed the most meaningful part of my life.

Well, at least I can say there's one good thing the games did for me.

"I can't lose her Mags, I don't know what I'd do if I lost her."

"You won't," she assured me with a comforting pat on the cheek, "any girl in her right mind would take you just the way you are."

I grinned devilishly and leaned towards her again, "Well then Mags, what's holding you back?"

I was rewarded with a practiced pinch to my ear.

O-o-o-o-o

_Okay Fin, just say it. Tell her everything. _

Annie was curled up against my chest, still breathing steadily with sleep. I liked the way her weight felt against me, the way her hair tickled my skin. It was nice, for once, to have a girl put her arms around me and not having my skin crawl.

There was an unspoken agreement between Annie and me that we weren't going to do anything too physically intimate. For one thing, I think she understood there's a lot of complicated implications tied between me and intimacy. On my side, I just couldn't bring myself to think of ruining her purity that way. She was like a beacon of light to those around her, not a toy or an object to own. If Annie was going to get that close to someone, it wouldn't be without a lifelong commitment in the form of a band around her finger. I knew that, and I don't think she ever thought about it. Like I said, we both had our own reasons, but we both knew the boundaries without even having to word them. I liked it that way, we already could communicate without words.

_Comes with knowing one another since you were like, six._

So this is why I could lay in Annie's bed with her body stretched against mine and not have to feel uncomfortable. It was natural, it was easy.

And now I was going to confess to her just how undying my attachment really is.

But that's when Pearl started screaming downstairs. Annie's head jolted, smacking straight into my nose.

"Oh, no! I'm so sorry," she rasped, covering her mouth in shock. I waved it away but clutched my nose, trying to stop my eyes from watering. Pearl screamed again and I heard the commotion of doors and Stephen's panicky voice asking what he should do over and over again.

"Baby's on its way," Annie whispered, half anxious, half excited.

"I appreciate the miracle of life just as much as the next guy," I said, "but I think I'll stay up here 'til its over. You go, support her."

She jumped up so enthusiastically she slipped and crashed to the floor. At first I thought she was hurt, but then she sprung up with a good-natured salute and ran from the room.

I didn't want to witness Pearl giving birth, and I'm pretty sure she wouldn't want me to either.

About an hour later—I'm not quite sure, I dozed off—Annie came crashing up the stairs. "He's a boy!" she exclaimed, "A boy! I have a nephew!"

I smiled at her from the bed, "What's his name?"

"Kai," she beamed, "He's beautiful and healthy."

"And Pearl?"

Annie scoffed, "She's fine, of course. It's Pearl."

I went down, gave them my condolences and then stared at the red little baby in Pearl's arms. With her hair messed up and sweaty and her eyes actually looking at something tenderly, she looked a lot more like Annie than usual. It sort of caught me off guard.

_That could be her someday. That could be my kid._

This left a strange feeling in my stomach. Excitement? Nerves? Mostly just irrational nervousness. From the looks of it, Stephen was worse off than Pearl was. Echo had dragged him off to a corner to push his head between his knees and slap a cold rag on his neck.

_Poor guy._

I left the family to have their intimate moment and retreated to my exceptionally large and empty house. I stayed there for the next two days, until all of a sudden Annie was standing in my living room with two bags in her hand.

"Annie? Shouldn't you be at home with Pearl?"

She threw me a twinkling grin, "I'm no longer needed for assistance. In fact, the only thing they need now is my room. So, I'm moving here until further notice." She flung her bags into the guest room and headed for the kitchen to get a drink. "Assuming that's alright?" she asked with an innocent bat of her eyelashes.

_Oh, Annie._

"What's mine is yours," I said, gesturing to the room. She put down her drink and crossed the space between us in a few even strides until her arms fastened around my neck and I swept her up into my arms, kissing her full on the mouth. Would I ever get used to this feeling? Probably not.

I'm alright with that.

o-o-o-o-o

About a week later, I got a call from my favorite man in the whole entire world.

"Hello Ivan," I sighed, bracing my forehead against the wall.

"Finnyboy, it's been so long."

"Not long enough," I grimaced. "Do I have to come in?"

"Short assignment," he said businesslike, "Very public, but not long. You'll be home in four days, tops."

"When do I have to leave?" I asked. Cooperating with him was like stepping on a nail in slow motion.

"Tonight."

I choked, "That doesn't give me much time!"

All I got was a very sympathetic, "See you in a few hours."

I grabbed a few choice outfits from the extensive closet and shoved them angrily in a bag. I knew this was coming eventually, but that doesn't mean I liked it. And now that Annie was more in the picture, I felt more like I was betraying her.

"What's wrong?" she asked from behind me. The girl was wearing nothing but a towel, her hair freshly washed and smelling like lavender. I frowned and shook my head.

"You are _not_ making this easy," I told her. She raised an eyebrow.

"What's going on, Fin?"

I sighed. _Might as well just spit it out._ "I have to go back to the Capitol."

"When?"

"Tonight."

Annie stared at the floor in front of my feet for a second, her face wiped of all emotion.

"I'll cancel," I said quickly, suddenly feeling stupid for having started packing in the first place, "I won't go. It doesn't matter."

"It does matter," she said with a careful, trying-not-to-sound-upset tone. "You don't want to push your luck. I understand."

"Annie, if there was _any _other way…"

"I know," she assured me, placing her hand on my cheek. Then she actually smiled and backed up, doing a hilariously ungraceful sexy dance in her little towel, "But think about _all_ you'll be missin' whilst you're away."

I threw back my head and laughed. "I said it before girl, you're not making it easy."

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

I sat alone in Finnick's big fancy house, watching his face pop in and out of the television screen. He'd been gone for five days, and I guess he was supposed to be home tonight. I told myself over and over again that I shouldn't watch, that it'll only make it worse for me, but my curiosity won over. They were giving a recap of the week, so I'm sure Fin would be in there somewhere. Some weird blonde reporter was on the screen, labeling herself as the Ambassador of Current Social Events. As if that were a real thing. I wondered to myself if Fin had ever had an assignment with her.

_Shut up, Annie._

Now all eyes were on Fin at this massive party. I guess the Capitol was a little indignant on being so visually deprived of him this past year. All lights, cameras, and women were on him. one in particular, Scarlet James. I hate to admit it, but _she _was sexy. She was sex appeal from concentrate, packed into a perfect figure. She dressed funny, sure, but compared to those around her she looked pretty human with oddly bright eyes. Most likely colored them, I've heard they do that.

This last video was on Finnick's departure. Scarlet had laced herself around his body, batting her smoky eyes at the camera. A pang of jealousy shot up my spine when I saw his hand on her waist.

_Relax girl._

They were talking about something stupid and mindless, when suddenly the interviewer asked to see a kiss. The whole crowed started chanting along with him.

_Kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss!_

I felt sick. I wanted to close my eyes and not watch, but I did. I watched her raise her mouth to his, and I watched him return the kiss eagerly. Well, from my standpoint it looked pretty eager. They stayed lip locked for a good ten seconds at the least. Then the recap flashed to other shots of them over the his short visit at the Capitol. The two of them dancing, holding hands, kissing, whispering, and worst of all, entering a hotel together. It was all the rage in the Capitol. New love birds? Or just a fling?

What the hell did I care?

And just as soon as I flipped off the television did I notice the tears sliding down my face. And as soon as I noticed _that,_ Finnick came through the door.

"Hey Annie, I thought we were going to meet?"

"Hey Fin," I responded in the smoothest voice I could manage. I knew if I kept my back to him too long, he'd know something was wrong. But I couldn't get the tears to stop, if anything, they were picking up.

"Annie?"

He was at my side in an instant, his hands placed questioning on my waist. A harmless gesture, but it burned me. I jerked away with a garbled, "Please don't."

He looked stricken, which only made me want to cry more. I knew I wasn't being fair, that I was irrational, but I could not. Stop. _Crying._

"Annie…what's wrong?"

I shook my head and covered my face, my attempt to breath catching loudly in my throat. "I'm sorry-y Fin, I'm b-being so s-stupid…"

He looked genuinely concerned and stood there helplessly because I wouldn't let him touch me. "Annie, please."

"I saw you w-with that girl!" I wailed, unable to stop myself anymore. "I just saw in on the television. You kissed her and you—you-you slept with her, didn't you? I know you d-did."

_Annie, you're hurting him. This isn't his fault. You're not being fair._

I looked at him miserably, "This isn't your fault, I'm sorry."

Fin reached out with his arms, "Can I?"

I let him wrap his arms around me, but they felt colder than before. And he smelled funny, like a weird cologne.

_Perfume._

I broke down in more tears and ended up just breaking away from him and sitting in the couch with my knees folded up to my chest. Finnick looked ready to cry himself, sitting at my feet with his face buried in his hands.

"I never wanted to hurt you like this," he groaned. I wish he'd stop talking and just let me cry it out. I really didn't want to have to comfort him and reason with myself at the same time. So all I could do was force myself to stop the sobbing and settle for a quieter approach. I picked a spot on the floor and stared it down, focusing on breathing steadily. Tears still rolled down my face, but at least I wasn't making such a scene.

It must have been hours. Finnick gave up and carried me into the guest bedroom, pulling the blanket up past my shoulders and kissing me lightly on the cheek before disappearing into his own room.

_Snap out of it, Annie. You knew what you were getting into with this._

_You have no right to hurt him._

_You're weak. You're pathetic, Annie._

It must have been three in the morning, hours must've gone by, but I slipped out of bed anyway and then slowly let myself into Fin's. He didn't wake until I started crawling into his bed, but he really didn't look like he was having a very good sleep. I put my finger on his lips before he could start apologizing and make me cry again.

_That's right. You're in control. _

_I've got this._

"Okay, here's the deal," I told him, "That was bound to happen; once. I've had my jealous moment, I cried my tears, and now I'm over it. That was stupid and selfish of me, and I'm sorry it got ladled on you. You've got enough to worry about without me sobbing all over the home-front. So, I'm sorry. Forgive me?"

He gave me an incredulous look, "I'm the one who should be apologizing, Annie, I should have just said no…"

I pressed my finger to his mouth again, "Not another word. I'm not letting you disobey the Capitol and put your family and friends in danger because of me. Got it?"

He stared at me with sad eyes, "I'm still really sor—"

I slammed my mouth onto his and found respite in the silence, the familiarity of his lips and breath. I didn't come back up until I knew what I was going to say.

"New agreement," I asserted, pointing my finger at him, "from this point on, we can't punish ourselves for anything having to do with the Capitol. I don't want to punish myself for making you sad and I don't want you to punish yourself for having to cheat on me. We'll just have to accept that's the way things are. And if one of us gets a little upset about it, then no voracious self-loathing, just acceptance. I'll always be there for you, even if my hit list grows bigger after every trip you take out of town." I threw a wink at the end of that last sentence, simply for effect. He nodded and then swept me under him, bracing his weight on his sculpted arms and kissing me again. This was one of those ones that lit me on fire. We woke up the next morning in a daze, completely wrapped up in each other. I had a panicky moment when I thought maybe I had let my judgment slip, but no, my dress was still on and while Fin usually lacked a shirt, he still sported his pants. Good.

Fin brushed the hair out of my face and left his warm hand there instead.

"Annie, I love you."

Electric sensors went off in my head and the bliss started to seep back in again.

"I love you too."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Reaping day for the Seventieth Hunger Games. Ugh.

Finnick had gone to meet his mother, since this was the only time of the year he saw her really, so was left to stand alone in my group of children. It felt stupid to be there amongst all of them. I was in love, I was an aunt. This whole operation was borderline insulting.

Garcia took the stage, we watched the video, heard the anthem, and then bit our lips as the papers swirled around in the bowl.

"Ladies first."

I spotted Finnick at his chair and waved. The sight of him made me feel safe, and I could just focus on him instead of the bowl and I knew I could get through this.

_You're almost done, Annie. Next year is the last year and you'll be done. _

Finnick threw me an encouraging wink, which made me laugh shakily in spite of myself.

_Oh nerves, you do not flatter me._

"Asterc Einna."

_Asterse Einna, who was that?_

"Oopsie," Garcia giggled when no one had come forward, "I read that backwards."

_Well then, who is it?_

"Annie Cresta."

…._Oh._


	21. Chapter 21

_Okay, i was going to add more to this, but i wanted to get a new chapter out there before someone dies of a hemorage. so here ya go! Happy reading! Well...okay this time maybe not so happy._

**21**

**Reaper**

I was sitting in my usual chair at the front of the Reaping Stage. Another year I would have to train two kids, knowing only one, if any, would return. I could get one of my friends. Tristan sat beside me this time, my best man Crabbe on the other. I'd gotten a lot better at making my face a clean slate, so I think I blended better. After all, I'd grown up. Now I was in love, I was thinking about my future, so everything else sort of paled in comparison. Everything could just roll off my shoulders.

I found Annie in the crowd. Her face had been creased with worry, but when she met my eyes she actually managed a smile and waved. I threw her a wink for good luck. It seemed so childish, so silly that she had to stand there with everybody else like mindless cattle. Could no one see how much she meant? How different she was?

I scanned the faces of the crowd and found Echo in the younger section of kids, staring defiantly up at the stage. She was tough, like Pearl, but enough Annie to give her a compassionate touch. Pearl and Stephen stood at the lines for the on looking adults, cradling their new baby close to them. Sooner or later—which I'm sure they were realizing right now—Kai would have to join this crowd. And if they lost him, what would they do? As if the first year of parenting wasn't hard enough, let's force them to watch children assemble into a death trap.

I tuned out the process on stage to watch Annie instead. Was she nervous? She sort of looked bored. She was wearing the this green dress I found at the market place the other day. I had to say that green definitely seemed to be her color; it contrasted her hair and skin perfectly and made her eyes glow like lanterns. Good thing she was all the way over there, and not over here, or I—

A name had been spoken, by Garcia. Who was is? _Eyana Asterce _or something like that_?_

I crunched my eyebrows and joined the crowd, their heads swinging back and forth in search of whatever girl had just been called. No one came forward. I saw an official holding a clipboard give Garcia a tiny but stern shake of her head. Garcia licked her lips and looked back at the sheet of paper.

_What is going on?_

I looked up to see Ivan staring at me from the crowd. He'd blended in so well in his all-black suit I didn't even realize he was nothing more than a shadow. What was that look? He _looked_ like he was waiting for the opportune time to sink his teeth into my throat.

"Oopsie," Garcia recovered with a relieved grin, "I read that backwards."

_Well then, who is it?_

"Annie Cresta."

"No!" I shouted out loud before I had even comprehended what was happening. The crowd parted and Annie stood there like a ghost, her eyes locked on the stage in front of her. She wasn't moving, it looked like she was cracking.

_No, not Annie. This isn't happening. It's not. No. This is a dream and I need to wake up._

_Why can't I wake up?_

It felt like someone had doused me with a bucket of ice water. I stood up, I started to walk for her, to protect her. Was I still shouting? I didn't know. I couldn't feel anything but this uncontrollable need to get to her. To get to Annie before the peacekeepers did.

Strong hands clamped on my shoulder like steal vices and forced me back into my seat.

"Let me go," I demanded, trying to shake them off. I caught a look at Tristan's face that told me that wasn't an option. "Tristan, let go!"

Crabbe grumbled something and shoved my head roughly. What was happening? Why were they stopping me. I heard a voice saying something in a hushed, fast voice. I tried to listen.

"—make a scene then they'll just whisk her away without any sort of chance. It's possible someone's going to volunteer. You have to sit here and wait until they do though."

I sucked in a deep breath, and resigned myself to my chair. They were right. As blind as I was, as much as my body was shaking uncontrollably, I had to stay put. For her sake. Someone had given her a little push and she was starting to walk slowly towards the stage. The peacekeepers lurked out the outer edges of her path, but didn't grab her arms like usual. Probably afraid of breaking her. She looked like glass, after all.

I wanted to throw something, to run, to scream, to escape. That's it. Ill steal Annie, find a boat, and sail into the ocean and escape. They won't find us, I'll make sure of it.

"Breathe, Finnick," Tristan reminded me. I let the hair past my lungs and felt the hot blood that had filled up in my face draining. I didn't like the feeling of the air though, it felt foreign. I'd had the wink knocked out of me and I didn't want it back until the world was put right.

Annie stood up on the stage, looking like a feather about to blow away. I looked through the masses and found Echo pinned under Stephen's arms, and Pearl screaming at a peacekeeper.

_Where's Kai?_

I saw an intimidated elderly woman holding him protectively, no doubt taken aback that she just got a baby handed off to her, while Pearl let her temper take over. I couldn't tell if I was more worried for her safety of the peacekeeper's. Echo looked almost as insane as her sister, but she allowed tears to be running angrily down her scarlet cheeks. Stephen just looked broken.

"Any volunteers?" Garcia gave the crowd a nudge and a wink.

_Come on girls, someone volunteer. Anyone._

_Please._

I looked desperately at the crowd of girls all shuffling awkwardly in their places. Where was all the bravery? Where were the girls looking for glory? For riches?

"Come on!" I cracked before I could prevent it, "What's stopping you?"

Tristan shot me a look and tightened his grip incase I tried to run. But there was nothing I could do. No one was standing up. No one was looking at her, or me, or her family. They were all staring at their feet and waiting for the moment to pass. Because that's what it was to them. A fleeting, awkward moment that they endured simply because the relief was so sweet. I hated them. I hated them all.

But of course, hadn't I done the same thing for two years before getting reaped? I probably never would have volunteered. So now I hated myself too.

I looked back up at the stage and found Annie's eyes on me. She looked hollowed out, like at any moment she'd disappear and leave me with nothing. I tried to convey my desperation, my misery, with the way I looked at her. But whether or not it had any effect was lost on her shattered expression.

"No volunteers? Well then Miss Cresta, the fun is all yours."

_You stupid, evil, sick, twisted bitch!_

Firm hands took my shoulders and pulled me out of my chair. I looked down to see the white and black gloves the armed peacekeepers always wore and then glanced quickly at Tristan. He was looking at me with so much pity I wanted to hit him. Cry out for help.

"I can't leave her!" I pleaded as they started to lead me away, "Please, I can't go!"

I would kill them. I'd kill them all for this. The second they had pulled me into the shadows behind the stage I attacked, throwing the man off of me, chucking his helmet and slamming my fist down into his crunchy boney face. The other guard started to fumble with his weapon but I sprang at them. It was the Capitol that had trained me to be a killer, so now they were going to have to deal with the ramifications.

"Enough."

Ivan's voice sent chills down my spine. I paused just long enough to allow a peacekeeper to twist my arms painfully behind my back and push my face into the ground. Despair washed over me and I felt this crushing, listless black weight. This was wrong, this was so wrong.

"Ivan, don't let them _do_ this," I choked pathetically. I had my forehead pressed against the cobblestone, but I could see the shine on his black shoes; like they were made of solid ink.

"The only person who did this is _you_, Mr. Odair."

"What?"

_This was _my_ fault?_

"Think about it."

I had nothing forthcoming. My brain wasn't working, it wasn't letting my dig into its contents. Too much confusion, too much shock going on. They yanked me up enough so I could crank my head and meet Ivan's eyes as he knelt down to me. He looked deathly in all black, like some kind of disguised Grim Reaper. Where was his sheath?

"Did you really think," he said in a soft, patronizing voice, "that you could defy the Capitol? Did you really think you were so big, so important, so free that you could refuse President Snow's demands? _Did you?"_

Seething anger rose from my chest into my face. I bore my eyes into his disgusting, shiny black ones and did my best to speak, "You reaped her. You twisted bastards reaped her on purpose to punish me?"

Ivan didn't answer the question, but I knew the answer. Yes. Of course.

I had been so stupid.

"Let me go," I broke, sinking my eyes back to the ground. "I want to see her."

"You're going to mentor her dear boy, you'll have your time."

"Please."

Ivan made some gesture with his hands and I was being lifted back to my feet. "You can go wait in line with her loved ones in the Justice Building," Ivan said coldly. As he turned, he started laughing darkly to himself, "Justice _is_ sweet."

"Move it," the keeper behind me barked. It took all the strength I had in me not to lash out at him.

_I'm going to get you out of this Annie. I'm not going to let anything happen to you._

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

So this is what it felt like.

I sat on a plush velvet bench, staring at a tank full of fish I'd never seen before. And that was saying something. It must be nice, lazing about in a tank and never realizing how trapped you are. I envied their blissful ignorance. As far as I was concerned, I just had my death sentence read out loud. Was the feeling supposed to be gone from my hands? I was tempted to pinch myself to see if I would feel it, but I couldn't get the energy to lift my hand. It's like, if I moved, my skin would freeze.

_This isn't happening. It's a bad dream._

I heard voices outside the door and started trembling. What did I care if I looked weak? I am. At least I wasn't crying. I almost wish I had enough feeling in my face to cry.

I expected the first through the door would be my sisters, but it was Fin. His whole face was a whitewash of worry and a thousand other thoughts. I think his lip was a little swollen, but I couldn't bring myself to think about it.

"Annie."

I could feel cracks creeping up the wall of ice that had set over me. Finnick looked so desolate, it broke my heart.

"Fin…"

I expected him to sweep me up into his arms, to tell me everything was going to be alright, but he didn't. Instead he wrapped my hands in his and sank to his knees, bowing his head over my lap. I looked at him painfully and actually felt a tear hit the side of my hand. Was Finnick crying?

Maybe. But his voice was steady when he spoke. "Annie, I am so, so sorry."

"It's not your fault," I told him. Of course it wasn't. The Capitol did this to me.

"It _is_ my fault."

"Finnick, please…what are you talking about?"

I didn't want him on the floor, kneeling like he wasn't worthy of standing anymore or something. I wanted him to wrap me up. To kiss me. To make me forget about the current situation at hand. He seemed to summon his courage and then looked straight into my eyes.

"I don't think the Capitol liked me cancelling on them that one time, when you were in the hospital," he confessed. I tried to say something, but he stopped me. "And then after I _did_ go, and I came back…I saw how upset you were…I didn't want to live like that Annie. I wanted to spend every day with you. I didn't want to have to betray your trust. I was so selfish and stupid Annie, _so_ stupid. I got too full of myself, thinking I could deny the Capitol. I called Ivan after I told you I loved you and said I wasn't going back to the Capitol until the games came again. But…I think he had this plotted out since the first time. Second time just guaranteed no volunteers."

I stared at him, trying to make sense of his story. Could that be true? They were doing this to punish Finnick?

_Why am I not angry at him for this?_

"I'm sorry, a million times I am sorry."

I pulled my hands out from his and for a moment I saw an extra level of pain cross his eyes. But I slid them onto his face.

"Finnick, I love you." It's all I could say. I couldn't tell him it was alright, I couldn't even say it wasn't his fault. Ultimately it was the Capitol, but there was nothing that could help that.

"You shouldn't. You should hate me."

I closed my eyes and savored the warmth of his skin under my hands. Definitely walls were falling, I couldn't stay strong forever. "Here's the thing," I managed to say steadily, "we promised not to beat ourselves up over what happens because of the Capitol." He was going to say something but I covered his mouth, "And I know you must feel terrible, but Fin, I—" my voice cracked and I couldn't hide the emotion twisting my face. I couldn't be strong for him anymore. "I'm really scared."

Hot tears splashed from my face into my lap. How will it happen? Would I starve? Would someone stab me with a knife? Crush my skull in with a mace? Poison? Finnick stood and wrapped me up into his arms, crushing my body against his chest. "I'm going to get you out of there," he whispered to me, "I'm going to get you home. I promise."

_Don't make promises you can't keep._

But I was a little comforted. Maybe with his help…

_Better not get your hopes up._

The peacekeepers were calling him out, so he held me out in front of him. I watched him as he rolled up his shirt sleeve and pulled off the shell bracelet I'd given him so many years ago. "Here," he said, pressing it into my hand, "Something to hold on to."

"Mr. Odair, you have to get out."

"Don't leave," I pleaded, squeezing the shells into my hand.

"You'll see me soon," he assured. I kissed him before he got a chance to go, a kiss he returned with more passion than I expected. Why? To comfort me?

Or to start saying good-bye?

Next one through the door was Stephen. I was hugging myself when he walked up in front of me and knelt down to my eye level.

"How are you hold up?" he asked gently. My whole body was shaking uncontrollably and I'm sure I looked just as bad as I felt.

"Where's Pearl and Echo?"

"Outside," he answered, "I wanted to let them have their own time with you."

I nodded weakly. "I can't kill anyone, Stephen. I'm going to die."

He bit his bottom tip and pet the top of my hair soothingly, "You don't know that. I think you have some fight in there."

I didn't answer. Me? Fight? Has he been around me for the past six or seven years?

"And Finnick will be in the background, helping you all the way. You couldn't ask for a more reliable resource." He said this with encouragement in his voice, but it got lost. Eventually after some silence I think he gave up.

"Annie," he said firmly, directing my face towards his, "You have to try, okay? Kai needs his aunt."

I remembered the tiny, beautiful baby. I probably would never see those wide, sparkling eyes again.

"Okay."

Stephen gave me a hug that made my limbs tingle with nostalgia and ache. I didn't want him to go. I didn't want this to be good-bye. But I couldn't stop him from leaving. He kissed my cheek and then was being escorted out of the room before I could tell him how much his friendship meant to me.

Then the doors nearly broke down as Echo came crashing into the room, smacking into my arms like a stone. It felt good to have her strong, skinny arms clamped around me. I hugged her back, pressing my face into her hair. Pearl was waiting behind, her face swept of all emotion except a tint of pain that I knew went a lot deeper.

I unwound myself from Echo and stood, reaching out for Pearl. She wasn't a hugger, I knew this. But she allowed it this time, in fact, she initiated it. I didn't have any words to say to them, nothing profound.

"Give them hell," Pearl told me with a determined burn to her eyes. I think, had our roles been swapped, Pearl probably could have won the games in three days tops.

I nodded and then looked between her and Echo.

"I love you," I said simply, "Always will."

"We love you too."

After a final kiss and hug, they were taken from me forever and I was whisked away into a car to be brought to the train. The boy who got reaped was next to me. His name was Troy Silver. He looked sweet, unassuming, and impossibly brave. I recognized him from school, he was seventeen as well.

Garcia sat between us, and after hearing Fin talk about her so, it was strange to actually experience her in person. And I couldn't help but wonder if she was part of this conspiracy; I couldn't help wanting to slap my hand over her mouth.

Good-bye, home.

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

I came out of the room rubbing my forehead. Stephen passed by me, the next in line to see Annie. I turned the corner, trying to find a way out, when I was stopped by Pearl's hand on my chest. And then awakened when she gave me a resounding slap across the face.

"You listen to me," she said in a dangerous voice, "I don't know how this shit works, but you're going to have to do something. I know this is _your_ fault she's here. It's you they're after."

I hung my head, "I'm not going to argue that Pearl, I know it's true."

"You have no idea just how frail she is."

"She's not that—"

"_Two weeks!_" she cut, "Annie didn't just grieve like the rest of us when our parents died. For two whole weeks she sat on the floor, staring at a wall. I could barely get her to eat, and when she slept she did nothing but scream." I stared at her, reading the truth of it in her eyes, "And then one morning she just woke up, and poof, it was like it never happened. She had absolutely no memory of those two weeks she spent staring at the wall. She still has no idea, I think she thought she handled it normally. But she didn't."

"What are you getting at…" I asked nervously.

"She's too weak for this," Pearl pressed, actual tears forming in her eyes, "She's too frail. She's not going to be able to come away and be alright."

I didn't want to hear this. "Then what should I do?"

I watched the amazing process of Pearl ironing her face and stealing her emotions away inside. It was like she swallowed them and all that was left was ice. "I don't know. But…when the time comes…" she seemed to struggle and then just said it, "Kill her. Make them kill her quickly so she can't be tortured by some lunatic or strung up naked with no dignity. Let her go out fast before she had to witness too much, because we both know she's not going to make it out alive."

I once again found myself staring at her. What could I say? That she's awful for having no faith in her little sister? Because she wasn't. Everything she said was true.

"I'm going to get her out alive," I said with resolution. But Pearl had already turned and was walking around the corner to meet Echo.

If I don't, if Annie doesn't make it out of this alive, I don't think I will either.


	22. Chapter 22

_Thanks for all the comments guys! They made my day. Happy Reading!_

**22**

**Give 'Em The Ol' Razzle Dazzle**

I sat at the table, drumming my fingers numbly against the shiny mahogany while Mags sat silently beside me. Annie was supposed to show at any moment now, with Troy. There was a lot of funny looking food stacked around on silver platters, but I couldn't smell any of them. only one thing was on my mind, circling, spinning, suffocating.

I had to get Annie home, I wasn't going to stop until it was over.

Every once and a while, a nagging thought knifed its way into my schemes. Pearl's words specifically; _When the time comes, kill her…Let her go out fast before she had to witness too much…_

_Because we both know she's not going to make it out alive._

No. It wasn't going to happen. I wouldn't let it.

Troy came in first, his jaw set in silent determination. How old was he? Seventeen? Eighteen? All I could think about was the fact that I couldn't help him come home and help Annie at the same time.

"Hey," he said curtly, sitting across from Mags. He looked nice enough, he even threw Mags a polite smile before grabbing a buttered roll. I nodded to him but that's the best I could manage, I couldn't meet his eyes.

Annie came walking in next, her steps selected carefully like she was walking on black ice. I watched her come in and sit, but she didn't look at me. Her face was red and her eyes were puffy, I knew she'd been crying. Garcia followed shortly after, tittering away about something trivial, probably the importance of nail beds. Did she know? Was she part of this whole set up?

"Alright my little ducklings," Garcia rang as she took her seat, "dinner is served, let's not sit here with our stomach's rumbling."

She dug in, taking the perfect amounts of everything in every color. Mags had an eye for food—developed over the years no doubt—and selected the most wholesome and natural looking items. Troy looked at a loss once the whole setting had been provided.

"Just go for it," I told him good-naturedly, "we don't judge."

That's all the invitation he needed. Before most of us had finished our starting bread, he had created a landscape of potatoes, meets, sauces, and noodles as high as his plate would allow. Annie sat unmoving, staring blankly ahead at the table.

_Two weeks. For two weeks she stared at a wall._

"Annie," I said, trying to snap her out of it, "You should eat something."

Her head picked up a little at being addressed. Garcia's interest had been peaked, I could tell the way she was glancing between Annie and her empty plate.

"Oh, don't be nonsensical young lady," she blithered on, ladling her choice dishes onto her plate, "You can't say you don't like it until you try it." Annie didn't move, but her eyes were now studying the foreign food in front of her. Garcia pursed her red lips impatiently. "It's _rude_ not to eat, dear."

I was going to protest Garcia's insistent nagging, but something about being pecked at brought Annie back to life. "Sorry," she said quietly, and picked up her fork like she wasn't quite equipped to use it. Troy was watching her, but there was nothing cynical in it from what I could tell. He just looked politely curious, not like he was sizing her up. But I still couldn't shake the thought. Troy was an enemy here.

At least for me.

"Try the rice first," he suggested, poking a grain of it that had fallen off her plate, "It's the easiest to stomach."

She gave him an appreciative look and shyly began eating, though it all looked very forced. Garcia snapped her fingers a couple times, calling over an avox who was hiding in the corner unseen. "Bring everyone one of those special coconut drinks," she requested, then added to all of us, "Coconuts have been having a _very_ good season this year."

"Fascinating," Mags answered for all of us. Only she could pull off a convincing tone at this point in time. I watched the avox bring us a tray full of tall, fancy glasses filled with icy white drink and slices of fruit decorating the edges. Were there really flakes of gold on the top? No, too decadent. I think.

Before I lifted my drink to my lips, I heard a series of tiny coughs and gasped coming from Annie. She was holding a hand over her throat and staring at her glass like it had just sprouted hair. "What is in this?" she choked. Garcia made a face again that told me she wasn't approving of Annie's manners today. Well Garcia, you can shove it.

_Too mean. You don't even know if she's truly involved._

"It's nothing _bad_," Garcia answered, "Not even an alcohol. It's just a little spirit, there's something in it that's supposed to help release endorphins."

Annie looked at her, clearly not knowing what endorphins were, but slowly started drinking again. When I tried it, I understood what had shocked her so much. At first it's just cool and fresh, and all of a sudden you swallow and lightning shoots down your throat. It got better as you went on, and towards the bottom of the glass the sharp edges of my anger and betrayal were completely mellowed over. Troy was grinning a little stupidly at his glass, tracing the edge with his finger and making it sing. The sound seemed to transfix us all, until we realized we were staring slack-jawed and laughed at ourselves.

"Okay," Garcia said dreamily, "I believe that was a _little_ stronger than I thought. Bed for me, and I recommend it for all of you too. It's been a long day, and we have longer ones ahead."

She excused herself and tip-tapped all the way into her own car. How could she walk in those heels and not snap her ankle? I didn't get it.

"I'm going to bed too," Annie said in a small voice. Why wouldn't she look at me? She got around the table but then stopped and twisted around awkwardly, "Um…where do I go?"

"I'll show you," I volunteered, but Troy's hand grabbed my wrist.

"Actually," he said determinedly, even through the buzz, "I would really like a word with you privately."

"I'll show you honey," Mags cut before I could deny Troy's request, "come on."

I suddenly felt ashamed of myself. Mags knew I was already writing Troy off, and I couldn't imagine how low she probably thought that was. How selfish and greedy.

I sat down slowly, finally meeting Troy's eyes. What was in there that I couldn't read?

"Well?"

Troy waited until the doors behind the girls closed shut and then spoke, "I have a…proposition."

"Oh?" I crossed my arms and sat back. He doesn't know that Annie and I are together, he doesn't know I have any bias between the two of them, other than she's prettier than him. He wants to buy me, to ally with me and win my support behind Annie's back. I'd been doing this long enough to know that this wasn't unheard of.

"I know you're in love with that girl," he said abruptly, no ounce of doubt in his voice, "I don't know if she loves you back, but that's not really important in this case. What _is_, unfortunately, is the fact that this means I'm completely screwed."

"Ple—"

"Wait. Just hear me out. I know it's early on to be doing stuff like this, but I tend to make up my mind pretty fast. I'll help your friend get as far as I can go, in exchange for your help. But you need to swear it, and I want Mags to hold you accountable."

"Help with what?"

"My family," he said seriously, "They won't survive without me. We're poor, my dad's injured and my mom's dead. I have two younger sisters who don't even know how to fish well enough to feed themselves yet." He gave a regretful sigh, "I should have taught them earlier…I just got absorbed. I didn't think I'd be reaped."

"Yeah, I know how that feels."

He nodded, "If I help your Annie, you have to take care of my family. Feed them, clothe them, teach them to fish. I don't care what it is you have to do, just help them."

I had unfolded my arms, but I was still scrutinizing him skeptically. "I don't know. I've seen this before, where you bargain for an alliance, and then you kill them when they don't expect it. How do I know you won't just kill Annie when it gets down to the wire?"

"You don't," he shrugged, "But does it look like I can win? Sure, I'm strong. But I'm not very smart. I'm not gifted in the art of silence either. I know I'm going to die, so I might as well get some insurance while I still can." He studied me with hope, "Look, if I betray her, you don't have to help my family. You can let them all die, and it'll be on my hands. That's all I can offer to make you see that I'm telling the truth."

"If it gets down to two…and it's just you and Annie…"

"I doubt that."

_He's got a point._

"Alright," I said cautiously, shaking his hand, "you've got a deal. But I'm watching you."

Troy nodded and left with a hint of a relieved smile on his lips. What a sad thing to say, to sign his death contract, and not even look like it pained him very much. Must be the effects of Garcia's drink.

That night an old nightmare came back to me, with more vibrancy than ever before. Annie was standing on the rocks in the middle of the ocean, a storm raging around us.

"Why are you doing this to me?" she cried. I looked down at my hands and found the string of shells clutched in them. And then, unable to stop myself, I pulled, and only then did I see that the string had been tied like a noose around her neck before she went crashing into the water.

"Annie!" I screamed, trying to dive in to save her, "ANNIE!"

I jerked awake, my chest rising and falling as violently as the waves in my dream. It was still dark and my room looked cold and empty. Without a sound, I left my bed and walked down the train until I found Annie's compartment and let myself in.

She was laying on her back with her eyes boring into the ceiling. A thin silk nightgown was the only thing protecting her from the invading chill in the air. "Annie?"

"Hey Fin."

She didn't look at me, but I took that as an invitation to join her. I sank into the bed and almost laughed because it was a waterbed, just like the one I got when I was reaped. The ironic obsession with details was astounding.

"You're rocking my mattress," she joked, though it didn't have a lot of humor in it. I grinned and wiggled my body so that it felt like we were caught up in a strange mini storm. Annie smiled, but gave me nothing else.

"Are you okay?" I asked her finally, taking her hand. She sighed and blinked.

"Yes, I am. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize."

She surprised me then, rolling over until she was completely on top of me. "Can they see us?" she breathed, brushing some stray hair impatiently from her mouth.

"No? I don't think so…"

"Good."

Her lips crushed against mine, taking me back even more. What was she doing? The tingly effects of the drink started to win over, and the seriousness in my head was slipping away like a feverish dream. All I had was Annie, her skin that still sort of smelled like the ocean even against the soaps of the high-tech showers, and her lips. She was kissing me hungrily, searchingly. I held her to me tightly, my fingers digging into the flimsy fabric that barely covered her at all. Could I stop the fire at this point?

Did I _want_ to?

"Annie, wait…" I tried to say once her lips moved to my neck. Something wasn't right, but I couldn't locate it. I just wanted more. She made a sound in her throat, but continued on as if I hadn't said anything. Her hands raked over my entire body desperately, lingering on the trace of my spine in a way that shot chills down my arms and legs. I laced my fingers into her thick hair and gave in some, kissing her in the crook below her ear. I knew from experience the way that this felt, and was happy with her response.

She undid the zipper on my pants and jerked them off roughly. I had been through this motion so many times before, I didn't even notice it, no less think about it. She returned to kissing me, even more passion behind it. But it wasn't until she slipped the nightgown over her head did I come back to my senses.

"Stop," I said gently, putting a finger over her lips. She looked at me with a mixture of surprise and hurt.

"What's wrong?" she demanded self-consciously. I watched her sit up and fold her arms protectively over her chest. "What did I do?"

"Nothing," I assured her, reaching out for her face, "But you don't want to do this."

"Wrong, I do."

"No you don't. You're under the influence of that drink, you're not thinking clearly."

"In case you haven't noticed Fin," she said rashly, "we've done this before, and it wasn't under any sort of influence. I'm not making a mistake. I want you."

_Get it together Fin. Resist!_

"We've never gotten _this_ far," I retorted patiently, "And it's not that you're making a mistake. I just know that this isn't the time, nor especially the place."

She was beautiful, I had to admit. She's the only girl I've seen intimately without any scars or piercings or tattoos to taint her body. Everything about Annie was wholesome, pure, clean. Even the flecks of freckles dusting her shoulders had an odd, cleansing effect. "I want you," she repeated.

"And I want you, but you'd regret this."

"No, _you_ would. That's why you're protesting."

I took a deep, inner breath and swept Annie underneath me in one short move, placing my face an inch from hers. "I will do this, if it's what you want. You know I love you, logistics don't matter much to me."

And finally, my reverse psychology worked. I watched her bite her bottom lip thoughtfully and her eyes looking out searchingly as if her answer was lost somewhere in the air.

"Fine. Okay, I know. I get it."

I smiled and kissed her forehead, "You sure?"

She nodded and then snaked her arms around my back, hugging me into her. Now that she had found her sense of self=control, mine seemed to be dwindling bitterly. "What are you thinking?"I asked.

She smiled and looked into my eyes, "That it's really hard to stop once you've gotten started."

I grinned and a fire—though smaller than the one sweltering within—burst through my body. Maybe we wouldn't do anything _too_ rash tonight, but I couldn't make any promises on the subject matter leading up to it.

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

I didn't sleep well that night, but it was comforting to have Finnick's arms there. At first I couldn't even look at him, I was afraid that seeing him would make this feel too real. But the fact of the matter is that it _is_ real, and Fin's making it better. Besides, I had to make the best of my last few days with him.

_I wonder what he'll do once I'm dead? _

I pictured him holding hands with some phantom girl, smiling and tapping her nose the way he did to me. I didn't feel jealous, I just felt sad. The girl I pictured looked a lot like Marina Salts, except her eyes were green like mine. Finnick always did have a thing for helpless victims.

Maybe he would be so sad that he would live alone forever? While part of me relished that idea, to have him long for me for the rest of his life, the stronger part of me hated the idea. I didn't want this to ruin his life. Though, just judging on what I have to offer, it wouldn't. I'm replaceable, it might take some time, but Fin would move on. Maybe I'll write some notes like Marina did before I go, that way my thoughts won't be left unheard.

Garcia rapped on my door with her tiny fist, reminding me that it was breakfast time and the sun was shining.

_How quaint._

"Wake up Fin, it's breakfast time," I whispered, shaking his shoulder. For my own amusement, I leaned in and added a meaningful, "And it's _sunny_ outside."

He smiled groggily and stretched, blinking a few times at the light. I kissed him and then hopped out of bed to find something in this mess to wear. I found a pale blue dress made of layers of sheer fabric and a silver band around the waist that I liked very much. It was like a cleaner, fancier version of what I would wear at home.

"You might want to…ahem…fix your hair," Fin said with an impish grin. I glanced over to give him a smirk, and laughed at the way he was lounging like some sort of model on top of the covers.

"Stop that you sleaze ball," I giggled, tossing a shirt at him. When I retreated to the bathroom, I did see what he meant. It looked like I'd gone through a wind tunnel and then hiked through a forest of brambles. Nothing the automated beauty equipment couldn't fix.

I came to breakfast after being combed and polished, taking the seat beside Mags. "Good morning," I said to the table. Everyone seemed a little shocked at my good mood. Why? What was so different?

"You must still have a high from those coconut drinks," Troy remarked, staring at me through tired red eyes. It didn't look like he slept well at all.

"Maybe." It's possible. I was miserable yesterday, but right now everything felt okay. I even wanted to eat the food they set out. Eggs, glazed ham, coffee cakes, chocolate filled crescents, and more. Finnick had changed into a white tunic that made his muscles look flawless and his skin even bronzer than it was before. Garcia looked like an overstuffed clam shell.

After breakfast, we planned a meeting where Fin and Mags would tell us all about how to survive in the arena. I wandered into my room, trying to find my bearings, when Troy walked in after me.

"Hey," he said with a kind smile.

"Hey."

I think that they'd been right about the drinks, because right now my mood was crashing fast. Troy was the last person I wanted to see me cry right now. "What do you need?"

"I just wanted to talk to you," he shrugged, "seeing as we're going to be spending some time together. I figured it was the least I could do."

He seemed to be telling the truth, but I couldn't shake the idea that he was just trying to size me up and scope out the competition. "I want to be friends," he said finally.

"Friends." I repeated it more for myself than for him. What did that mean?

"Yes, friends. I mean, we don't have a lot of time left, it'd be nice to have at least one ally while we're out there."

"You're not going to join with the Careers?" I asked, genuinely surprised. We were from Four which usually meant we joined the Careers, except in my case I don't think they would want me. Troy, however, was a shoe-in.

"Nah, not my style. Besides, I can never get over the idea that the second I fall asleep, someone's going to slit my throat."

I laughed humorlessly, but my voice caught at the end and I mentally kicked myself.

_Get a grip, Annie. _

Troy was leaning against the dresser with his arms crossed, watching me intently. I had the sudden urge to cross my arms and shy away from him, but he smiled all of a sudden and met my eyes.

"You're not cut out for this," he almost laughed.

"No kidding." How irritating was he?

"I'm willing to help you with that," he persisted, giving me a meaningful look. I didn't believe a word of it, he was hiding something. And I didn't like the way his gaze was lingering.

"I don't need your help." That's a lie.

He smiled and shook his head, "Sure thing."

"Even if I did need you," I sighed, sitting on the edge of my bed, "You wouldn't need me. If anything, I'd just slow you down."

"Not true, I've seen the way Odair looks at you. If any of those sponsors are sending something in for Four, it's going to you."

I considered that with a pang of guilt. He was probably right, Fin wouldn't play fair.

"All this aside, let's just be friends. For now."

He threw me a smile and then left, closing the door gently behind him. I would think about this later, because right now all my walls of happiness were falling down again and I was being crushed by my looming execution.

_I wonder how it feels to be stabbed? To stab someone else?_

"Annie? You alright?" Finnick came in through my door slowly.

"Does it hurt to die Fin?" I asked hollowly, staring at the fringe on my window curtains. He sat down beside me and wrapped an arm over my shoulder.

"Why are you asking that Annie? You're just going to torture yourself."

"Because I'm scared."

I felt his lips press against the side of my head, "Don't worry about it Annie, everything is going to be okay."

"You can't promise that." I thought about the gnarled weapons I'd seen people use on the screen before and started to tremble. "They could torture me. I've seen it. That girl Celeste tortured people to get sponsors."

"That's not going to happen to you, I won't let it."

I don't know why I was so angry, but I couldn't help it. "You don't know that Fin! You can't jump into the arena and save the day! I'm on my own out there, and all you're going to be able to do is watch and send me dinner rolls."

He was watching me with a careful expression, which just made me want to hit him. I needed him to get angry, I needed him to yell and be irrational. But he was so measured.

"Please leave me alone for a little while," I asked, covering my face in my hands, "I've got to sort some things out in my head."

He frowned and left silently, but the air he used to fill was left cold and empty. Could he really take the warmth away with him?

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

We arrived in the Capitol shortly the next day. Annie had apologized for snapping, but I could feel a layer of ice forming in the way she talked and looked at people. I couldn't tell if she was angry or sad, but whatever it was, I knew it melted when she slept. She spent most of the night clutching at my chest and murmuring my name along with Pearl's and Echo's. Troy even made it in there once, much to my dismay. Maybe I didn't want him to hang around her in the arena after all…

The two of them were swept away to be styled for the Opening Ceremonies, and I immediately got to work. If I was going to win the hearts of the sponsors, I was going to have to buckle down and do some serious lying.

I whipped out the sleek black phone they gave me when entering the Capitol and punched in Lacy Templesmith's number.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Lacy, remember me?"

There was a pause and then I flinched at the octave her voice hit, "Finnick Odair? Is that really you?"

"It's me. Want to meet up?"

She paused again, no doubt trying to decide what composure she wanted to assume, "Why?"

"I've missed you."

"Meet me at the Golden Swan in half an hour," she chirped before hanging up the phone. I smirked and shut the phone, waving to a few girls who passed us by.

"Mags, can you handle things here for a while?" I asked with an apologetic smile, "I've got some business to attend to."

She nodded and wobbled off after Garcia, while I flagged down a cab and climbed inside. "The Golden Swan," I ordered. He peered at me from under his ridiculous red cap.

_Okay, razzle dazzle time._

"That's forty minutes away," he whined. I smiled and handed him a wad of cash.

"All of that's yours if you can get me there in thirty."

We pulled up outside the glitzy restaurant within twenty-five minutes, earning my driver an extra tip. I strolled inside, holding my head up high and my shoulders rolled back in the most confident stance I could manage. The effect on the women in the restaurant was instantaneous; they knew who I was. My alter-ego, The Golden Boy, took over and I didn't feel defeated or desperate. I was cool, confident, mildly humored by everyone around me. A thin golden necklace dangled a trident charm around my neck, catching the light and drawing attention to my chest.

I owned this place.

"There you are," I heard Lacy say from behind me. I turned on my heels and gave her my best crooked smile.

"Lacy Templesmith."

She had died her hair pink since last I saw her and piled it up on her head in a lopsided bun. Her eyes glowed blue from underneath her spidery blue eyelashes. "Finnick Odair. You look dashing."

I cocked my head and kissed her hand, keeping my eyes locked with hers. "Shall we find a seat?"

The hostess brought us to a table by the window with the best view of the city and brought the waters literally seconds later. Was there really lipstick at the edge of my glass? The hostess _kissed_ my cup?

_Girls are weird._

"So, how have you been?" she asked coyly, sipping from her glass with her pinky out.

"I don't want to talk about me," I answered, leaning in towards her, "I would rather hear about you."

"Oh, I'm not that interesting."

"I beg the differ."

She blinked at me and set down her glass, "Alright gorgeous, you want something. Tell me what it is."

I kept my mask up, only letting a little bit of mystery flash in my eyes. Girls liked that kind of thing. If I kept this up, she'd be eating right out of my hand. "I want you."

She raised an eyebrow and drummed her colorful nails on the table. "Is that so?"

"You were the first girl I ever laid eyes on in the Capitol," I said simply, "It seems criminal for me to be here all the time and never see you."

She blushed and I knew I hooked her. After a quick meal, we traveled back to her place for some 'alone time.' When it was over, a got up from her silk covers and stretched, adding a contented sigh for her benefit. Truth was, compared to the other women I had experienced, she fell somewhere just below average. But she was rich, so in other words, she was magnificent.

"That was fun," she giggled, spreading out on the bed. "So tell me, what's the latest scoop in the Seventieth Hunger Games, placing any bets yet?"

I felt her reach up and play with a piece over hair near the nape of my neck. I didn't even cringe, I was all in the Golden Boy mode. It was all empty, meaningless, acts of pleasure. "Well, there's a girl from my district, Annie Cresta, I think she has a lot of potential."

This seemed to surprise her. "The girl from your district? She looked like she was ready to keel over right there on stage."

"It's just an act," I told her quickly. "But don't share that, it's her strategy. She's got a lot of…hidden talents."

"I don't buy it."

I turned and looked up at her with just the slightest pout, "You think I'm lying?"

"I think you've been fooled."

"Well, here's thing…" I continued, starting to hate myself a little, "I can't disclose why, but I _really_ need her to win. Stuff to do with family back home and what not. _By the way, keep that a secret._ I know you have a lot of influence over the sponsors, and that you yourself are a…generous benefactor. I want you ask your help in sponsoring that girl, Annie. It would mean a lot to me."

She studied me a minute with skepticism in her eyes, but also the delicious lick of intrigue. "So _that's _what you wanted from this? To get me to sponsor some girl you owe a favor to?"

No use pretending that this wasn't a set up, she would see right through it. "I did want to mention it to you, yes. But I really did have an interest in seeing you."

"And if I don't?" She was playing with me, I could see it. Like dangling a feather in front of a cat.

"I'll tell you what," I said in a low voice, leaning in so that my words would brush her neck, "You sponsor her, and I'll spend another night, maybe two, with you. Get some of your friends to be just as generous…and…well, I'd be willing to let them jump in on the fun." I clasped my hands behind my neck and grinned, "If that's what you want."

This seemed to have gotten her attention. A smile crept across her face and her eyes twinkled. "You would do that?"

I nodded. To save Annie? Sure. What did it matter?

Once we'd agreed on a deal, I hurried back to the center in time to get dressed and meet Troy and Annie backstage before riding out on the chariots. My breath caught when I saw her.

"Hey Fin," she said shyly, looking down at the floor. Whoever had done her costume made her look like some kind of mermaid. The dress was thin and tight, green fabric fitted all the way down to her knees where it suddenly flared out in layers of colorful, flowy material. Gems and other fine detailing enhanced her every asset, and matching jewels were arranged in a mask-like array on her cheekbones and around her eyes. Her hair had been twisted into fat, billowing curls that cascaded down her shoulders and back with a dazzling headdress made of gems, colorful shells, and dangling beads.

"Wow," I said, giving her a wide grin, "It's going to be hard for them to ignore you."

"Look at Troy," she said happily, pulling him over by the arms, "We match!"

Troy was in a black pants and no shirt, but he sported a large green robe with details and gems similar to Annie's dress. Much to his dismay—I believe—jewels had not only been arranged in the mask on his face but also on his chest. His crown was a little sharper than hers…but still questionably glitzy for a male costume.

"I think the lack of shirt just adds _so_ much masculinity," Pippa twittered, admiring her work. I gave him a knowing smile and patted his shoulder for a touch of sympathy.

"Good luck out there guys," I told them, "Give them your best smiles."

"Where were you?" Annie asked in a slightly lower voice once Troy started for the chariot. I knew that she would understand if I told her the truth, but given her recent mood swings, I opted out.

"Paperwork. Mags can't really read well anymore."

She gave a slow nod and glanced at Mags with some sadness, "She's so nice."

"I know," I agreed, nudging her towards the chariot, "But you've got to go now. Remember, they're going to love you!"

She smiled, but I saw the nerves breaking through the surface. I waved goodbye and took my seat in the audience, just praying she'd stay in the chariot and manage not to look too terrified. I was pleasantly surprised when they rolled out to see her smiling and waving with a touch of shyness to the audience. I could pull that off as endearing. Troy was steadfast beside her, beaming at everyone and waving enthusiastically. They twinkled in the lights, and I laughed remembering my somewhat naked affair with Marina the five years ago. At least these two had a decent amount of clothing on, I didn't know what I'd do if they sent Annie out there bare-skinned.

After it was all over, we met up with the them backstage. District Seven's kids were dressed like trees, which apparently infuriated their advisor, Johanna. I'd met her a few times in passing. Confident, brutally honest, and just a hair shy of crass, but I liked her well enough. I appreciated how she didn't take any bullshit from people, even Capitol attendants. If I ever spoke so some of the officials the way that she did, my mother or Annie would probably already be dead. But she never held back.

"You two did great," Mags said with a smile when they came through the doors. "More than what I can say for District Twelve."

We snickered privately, stealing a few looks at them from across the room. The designer opted for shiny, black undergarments and sharp black makeup. Not the worst outfits I'd seen on those kids, but the two could barely stand in their shoes. The boy actually lost his balance and nearly fell out of the chariot. I guess I would too, if my legs were as thin as his.

"Poor things," Annie said regretfully. We stopped snickering and resumed our attention to each other, feeling a little guilty.

"You two should wash up and get some sleep," Garcia told them, "You've got training tomorrow. You need all the energy you can get."

They nodded and started for the elevator. "Green is really your color," I told Annie with a wink. She smiled and one of the gems glued to her cheek fell off.

Okay. So we'd made it past day one. I'd secured at least three sponsors already, granted Lacy manages to at least get two friends on the boat. I felt accomplished. That night, when I fell asleep with my cheek rested against the back of Annie's neck, I actually let myself believe that I could do this.

I would bring Annie home alive.


	23. Chapter 23

**23**

**Good-Bye**

_So much for being friends._

I stood in the middle of the Training Center in embarrassingly tight black pants and jacket while everyone else around me danced around dummies and threw weapons at targets. Troy hadn't even taken a second glance at me before running off in his own direction. I fought the urge and cross my arms self-consciously and tried to spot a station I was interested in. I walked incognito to the snare station, where Finnick had said he had gone. I watched the Careers take shape, Troy molding in easily with their group. He wasn't the biggest there by far, but he acted like one of them.

"You want to learn how to make snares? They're very useful. You can catch food, even enemies, with a few simple knots."

"I'm from Four, I make nets," I said in a shy voice, "I want to learn something advanced."

The trainer nodded and got to work showing me how to snatch someone up in a net with a hidden trigger on the ground. It looked a lot like the one that Finnick used in his games, except after he caught them, he had a trident to kill them. Chances were, no one was sending me a trident. And even if they did, I wouldn't be able to use it to kill people.

I _ could_,however, leave them dangling there long enough to steal their supplies and let someone else do my dirty work.

_That's no way to think, Annie._

_Actually, right now, it is._

I finished with the snares and pursed my lips, trying to find a new place to go where I wouldn't embarrass myself. _What would Pearl do?_

Pearl would already be yupping it up with the careers by this point.

I found a station that taught about edible plants. That seemed useful, so I spent a good hour there. I jumped when I heard a snap and looked back to find Troy staring at a broken wooden staff in his hands. I guess he'd broken it on some stuffed torso in the fighting station.

"Well done, but you need to demonstrate more control and technique rather than just brute force," the instructor commented, taking the shards from him. I scowled when he gave the room a cocky grin and winked at me. _Did you see that?_ his face seemed to say. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of looking impressed, so I yawned and turned around to learn more about these _fascinating_ plants.

_That wasn't petty at all._

It was lunch time, but I sat at a table with a kid from Twelve, both from Seven, and the boy from Five. In short, I felt like a complete loser. But I couldn't help but feel more accepted and at home amongst these kids rather than try and fit in at a table with all the bronze and muscle.

"Hey there pretty lady," a voice sneered from behind me. The greasy sound of it sent chills down my spine and the hairs stand up on the back of my neck. Slowly I turned to find the boy from One, Gerod, staring down at me. It looked like they packed his jacket with steaks, especially with his arms crossed over his chest like that.

"Can I help you?" Could my voice stop sounding like a dying mouse?

"Just wanted to say hello to the prettiest girl in the room. All kinds of things happen in the arena," his voice dropped low and he leaned in to me, "can't put a kiss at the bottom of my list."

I stared at him, not sure what to say. If Finnick was here, he would have knocked the guy out. "Erm…thanks for stopping by."

"I'll be seeing you, sweetheart."

"What a creep," a small curly-haired boy said from seven. Gerod was out of earshot at that point, or else I don't think he would have said anything.

Later that night I sat down in our flat with Troy across from me.

"Why don't you do anything in training?" he asked, biting an apple like it was his job.

"I did do stuff," I said defensively.

"Like what?"

My, my, such a tone. "I'm not telling _you_."

He laughed, "That's the easy way of saying you did nothing."

"I _did._"

"I saw you in the knots section, learn anything new?" He was teasing me. I could see it in his smug little grin.

"It wasn't knots, it was snares, thank you very much."

_Stop playing into his hand you idiot._

"You know, I thought you seemed nice," I scolded, waving my fork at him, "But now I can see it. You're just a little jerk."

"I'm not little." What I wouldn't give to swipe that expression off his face. "You really should try and learn how to do some fighting. Even some basic knife throwing skills would be better than nothing."

I poked a carrot on my plate and have him a solid _hmph. _"Thanks for the advice."

"Jeesh, what's with the ice storm Annie? Here I thought _you_ were the sweet one, but…"

I caught the way he was looking at me. Underneath that mocking glint in his eye was something else. Admiration? Or just sleazy leering. "Stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like…you're going to eat me or something."

He grinned devilishly and winked, "These _are _the Hunger Games, my dear Annie."

I wanted to be creeped out and smack him, but part of me just started laughing and I think it showed. I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing me crack, but I couldn't stop the little smile from penetrating my face. "Cannibalism isn't allowed, you saw the guy last year."

"Well, that's too bad, but, I'll make do."

o-o-o-o-o-o

It was the last day of training. Finnick never saw us during the day, and at night he's so exhausted he would kiss me quickly on the mouth and drop off into motionless sleep. I didn't ask where he was or what he was doing, because I knew; it just was easier not to ask. He was doing it to help me.

Troy was making a show of himself in training, and the more time that passed the more I realized how much I couldn't count on him. He was likeable, handsome, and skilled. He could throw a spear like nobody's business, and his hand-on-hand combat was incredible. I could see the girls from One and Two sizing up every time he stood up to train. He was interested in showing off, in winning. He didn't want to be weighed down by some weakling like me, not when he actually had a shot. I was disposable, he was a Career, the hero of the arena. In the hierarchy of the games, let's just say I would be eating the scraps from his table off the floor. That's just the way it was.

_You really should try and learn how to do some fighting._

Okay, fine. I _would_ learn some skills with a knife, but because I wanted to, not because he told me to. I felt like such a weakling with everyone else doing so many flashy, skillful things. It wasn't fair. All I could do was fish and tie knots.

Red flashed over there, black over here, metal clanged to the floor. Sounds and colors and shadows were swirling around me, filling my ears with ringing, angry sounds. It was irritating, but I tried to ignore it.

"Move your wrist like this and aim for the dummy," the instructor told me. He flicked his wrist and the blade sank easily into the fake body with a _thud._ "Go on, you try."

I took a deep breath and squinted at the figure, flicking the knife at it. I missed. I had seen Troy do it effortlessly, so what was my problem? I missed again. And again. I heard a few snickers from behind me.

_They're laughing at you. Of course they're laughing at you. You're going to die…and they're going to do it._

I tried one more time and the blade caught the stomach. The sound it made twisted my stomach in a knot. Suddenly the air was tight, like I couldn't breathe. My chest was trying to expand but my throat wouldn't cooperate. The room felt dizzy, hot…_terrifying._

_Thud, thud, thud._

I couldn't do this. I couldn't kill anyone. They would kill me. Their weapon would sink into my stomach with that same thud. And then my heart would stop. No more thud. Just silence.

"What's the matter little girl?" someone sneered at me. I couldn't see, I was just trying to breath. Was I on the ground? Or was I still standing up?

_Finnick, help me._

A pair of arms moved me to a wall and shoved my head between my legs. Air came slowly back through my lungs and my head began to clear.

"She's a goner," someone whispered.

"Mind your own business, Six." Troy snapped. Oh, so look who decided to actually say something?

"No matter," an instructor declared, "Training's over anyway. Go back to your flats. You have your private sessions this afternoon."

I didn't move until I felt stable again. Honestly though, I didn't feel all together normal. Sure, I wasn't hyperventilating, but there was this nagging in my stomach, in my _head,_ that wouldn't go away. But I could ignore it, if something was there to distract me.

We arrived back at the flat and Troy turned on me. "What _was_ that?"

I suddenly felt very defensive. "I got scared."

I expected him to make fun of me or to be mean. All he said was, "You've gotta do better than that."

I stormed into my room, shut the door, and started crying. I couldn't stop once I started, it was like the life was being drained from me and it wasn't going to stop until it was all gone.

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

"I don't know what to do, Mags," I groaned, running my fingers through my hair, "She only scored a four. A four! And I bet it would have been less if they didn't think it might be a front."

Mags patted my shoulder, but I could feel her frowning. If Mags didn't have anything encouraging to say, that must mean there's no hope. None at all. "As long as you can convince the sponsors that it's an act, you'll be alright."

"But it's not an act Mags, look at her! She's always been fragile, but these past few days she's looked right on the brink of collapsing…there's only _so_ much I can do."

"You've been doing a marvelous job Finnick, you've barely taken any rest since you got here. You can only do so much on your part, whether or not she survives is going to be up to Annie, in the end. Maybe she does have some strength hidden in there, she survived the death of her parents…"

"Barely. Her sister told me she practically snapped."

"Her sister?"

"Pearl Cresta, well now it's Pearl Silverston. You know what she said to me? She told me that Annie was too weak to handle this, and that it was my job to make sure she was killed quickly rather than tortured. I mean…how can I argue with that? She's her sister, she knows Annie better than I do. And she's right, if Annie is going to get killed, I'd want it to be fast…but…"

"Finnick, stop." I looked at her wrinkled eyes, hoping they'd hold some kind of a solution. She gave me a stern look, "You've been spending this whole time worrying about Annie and trying to get her sponsors, you haven't spent any time with her."

"But—"

"I know you don't want to think about it, but there's a good chance she'll die in the arena. Shouldn't you cherish these last few moments together, just in case?"

I sighed and let the rock fall into the pit of my stomach. Mags was right, as always. I scooted away from the table, pecked Mags on the cheek, and went to Annie's room. She was curled up on her bed, hugging her knees. She turned her face to me slowly and I had this horrible flash of Marina when I found her on the cliff.

_I told you they always choose a favorite._

"Hey, Fin."

"Annie." I swept across the room and buried her in my arms, resting my forehead in the crook of her neck. Her arms wrapped around my back and clutched my shirt in a way that made me feel like she was trying to stay on the ground. I tipped her chin and kissed her, pouring every ounce of longing into it, and at the same time trying to cherish the moment. Remember it, so that it can last.

"I'm sorry I've been gone so much," I breathed, running my fingers through the length of her hair, "I'm yours all day tomorrow."

"Okay," she whispered, pulling me back in to the kiss. I wished to myself that I could freeze that moment and stay there with her forever. I had plenty of money, surely I could buy something that did that…well, in theory at least.

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

All the next day Mags and Finnick trained Troy and I for the interviews, showing us how to talk, walk, smile, wave, so on so forth. I was going to endearing; Fin wanted to allude to the fact that I might have some hidden strengths, but everything I attempted seemed forced. Better to make the audience believe I was a good actress rather than a poor liar. Troy was going for charming and strong, with the edge of determination you need in a hero. He had scored an nine in the private sessions; over twice my score.

"Alright, time for you two to go get dressed," Garcia announced, clapping her hands daintily. I was ushered away before I could say goodbye to Fin, and sat down to be waxed and polished again.

"You're going to look stunning," the funny man chirped, painting a sparkly green pattern on my nails. They styled my hair up into a loose, romantic twist so that curls still tumbled out the back. The dress was absolutely the most gorgeous thing I'd ever seen; completely made of gems of all different shades of white and green. It was extremely fitted and ended part-way up my thigh.

"It's…uhm…a little _short._"

He shook his head with delight and pulled the second part of the dress out of his bag. It was emerald green silky fabric that he tied around my hips, allowing it to brush over the floor in a train-like fashion. You would not have known the dress underneath was short save for the slit where the skirt was tied that opened right at my leg. Beautiful, flowy, innocent with just the right touch of heat.

"I love it," I told them earnestly, almost crying when they added the finishing jewelry. With the glamour and the makeup that hid my every flaw and enhanced my every feature, I almost felt beautiful enough to stand beside Finnick and not look plain. The heels were a bit of a challenge, but I got the hang of them easily enough. The gray clouds that had been surrounding me all day were lifted slightly, allowing me to enjoy this one little victory.

We were escorted to the stage quickly, giving Fin just enough time to tell me how beautiful I looked before he disappeared into the stands. The careers all went, ranging from tough to sly to sexy. Finally, it was my turn.

"Try not to screw it up," Troy said as I stood. I was too nervous to decipher if he was trying to be funny and just focused on not falling on my way up the stage.

"Ah, _welcome_ Annie Cresta, welcome. My, you look absolutely _stunning," _Caesar beamed, holding out his hand for me. I took my seat and gave him a shy smile, remembering to blink a few times according to Fin's instructions.

_Sit up straight, don't fold your arms or curl your shoulders in._

"Tell me Annie, what's your favorite part about your adventure in the Capitol so far?"

_Be endearing, endearing, endearing, endearing._

"All the lights," I said with a certain mistiness in my voice. It was true, the thousands of brightly colored lights that shot up the night had really stunned me, "they're so beautiful. It's like it never gets dark here."

Caesar and the audience _aw-ed_ and a few clapped in agreement. Okay, good. I can do this.

"Now what's it like, being mentored by the infamous Golden Boy, Finnick Odair?" The audience erupted in applause and shouts of appreciation. A screen behind me flashed a shot of Finnick smiling and winking that the audience, and then a magnified shot of him that moment, sitting next to Mags in the audience and waving subtly. "He really is a handsome man, isn't he? In the past years, we've always wondered if it's a little distracting for you ladies from the district."

I did my best not to look sour at all the fandom Finnick had created and pulled off some sort of a smile. I don't know if it looked sincere or just awkward, but I went for it. "Oh, he's very nice in person. Once you get used to his face, breathing around him gets a lot easier." A few giggles. "He's a good mentor, and so is Mags. Troy and I have learned a lot."

Caesar smiled and nodded, "Yes, I can't imagine how many ladies here in this audience would kill to have the quality time with him that you've gotten."

_Oh Caesar, you have no idea._

"So now tell me Annie, what's life like back home? Do you have a family? A _boyfriend_?"

A few men shouted things at me in the audience, which I found surprising. I'd gotten so used to Finnick being leered at by women, I forgot I might be leered at by men. It was rude, and yet, flattering. "I have two sisters, one of them is married and just had a son named Kai." The audience gave another _aw_ at the mention of babies. "He's beautiful, I couldn't ask for more in a nephew. As for a boyfriend? Well, I thought I met the love of my life, but hard to say now when I compare him to Finnick Odair." I knew the audience would laugh at that, and fin, well, I could tell from the tight smile on his face he appreciated the humor too.

Caesar was chuckling enthusiastically, patting my arm in the midst of the humor. "Oh, now none of us can blame you there. Your boy back home better be careful, there's no standing up to the charms of the Golden Boy." More roaring, clapping, and whistling. "So let's get down to business Annie, now, do you have any hidden talents you want the audience to know about?"

"Um…" _think Annie, think! "_Well...I…."

My mind swept blank and a high pitched ringing filled my ears. It felt like I'd frozen over, my body wouldn't move and my eyes couldn't focus. What was happening to me?

"Surely you have some other weapon in your arsenal besides beauty?"

_What? What did he say? Skils…I need to think of a skill that I have. What was that noise? Are these people laughing at me?_

"Um…ropes."

"Ropes?"

"Ropes. Back home I make nets, so I'm very good with…with ropes. Knots."

Caesar continued to smile without the slightest detection of awkwardness in his expression. "Well, that could be _extremely_ useful, when used correctly. I assume this has opened you up to the world of survival?"

"Yeah…yeah. It will definitely be good."

_What am I __**saying?**_

"I don't doubt it," Caesar said with heartfelt. "Now you have to tell me where you got those stunning green eyes from." _He's changing the subject so that you don't look like an idiot._ "I've never seen a more mystifying pair of eyes on any girl in my life. Am I right, people?"

The audience clapped and cheered, but it didn't do much to pick me up. Their noise seemed to echo painfully around my head. "My mother," I answered quietly, "I got my eyes from my mother. My hair from my dad." _Be. Endearing. "_ If I win this, I win it for them."

"Lovely, absolutely lovely. I'm sure you will make them proud. Well, our time is up, it's been a pleasure meeting you. Give a hand for Annie Cresta of District Four!"

I shook his hand, thanked him, and went back to my seat, glad that I made it before I started quivering. I buried my face in my hands and stayed there, the rest of the world around me falling silent. The only difference I could feel was the chill of the space beside me where Troy used to sit.

"Stand up, the interviews are over," the boy from three hissed at me. I jumped up, feeling stupid. All I wanted to do was curl into myself and fall through the floor. My ears were ringing violently to the point I barely could hear the applause of the audience. We started walking, but every step I took felt like was slipping from underneath me. My face felt hot and papery and my hands were sweating. After stumbling down the steps, I veered too far right and felt a pair of hands clamp onto my arms and keep me standing.

"Come on Annie, at least get to the elevator," Troy hissed into my ear. I staggered blindly ahead, letting Troy guide me from behind. Where was Finnick and Mags? Were they even here yet?

Troy let go of me and I collapsed onto the ground, hearing the elevator doors close with a _ding._

"Where's Finnick and Mags?" I moaned as my head fell limp against my left shoulder.

"They're going to have to meet us at the flat, I got us out of there before they had a chance to get through the crowd." When I didn't answer, he continued, "I had to. You were going to pass out and embarrass our district there in front of everyone. Public appearances really aren't your thing, are they?"

"You did really well," I said weakly. No point in being cruel back, I didn't have the energy to be witty. He didn't answer, but when the doors open he picked me up under the arms and dragged me into the room, dropping me unceremoniously on the couch. I laid back and squeezed my hands over my head, trying to stop the throbbing. "Do me a favor Troy, just kill me now?"

I heard him laugh from another part of the room and had to wonder if he was looking for a dinner knife in which to do it with. "I'm not letting you off that easy, besides, they need you to show up tomorrow. They'd find some way to keep your heart going long enough for the countdown."

He was probably right. But then some sick thought came into my head, and I just had to ask it.

"Did Finnick ask you to kill me before the other Careers got to me?"

He didn't answer, but the clang of metal in the distance made me think he had dropped whatever he was holding. _Bingo._ I laid there and then heard Garcia, Finnick, and Mags come crashing into the room. "Where _were _you?" Finnick demanded. I couldn't tell if he was pointing at me or Troy.

"You shouldn't go places without us," Garcia cut in with a high voice, "we had no idea where you were!"

"I had to, Miss Cresta was about to pass out in front of everyone so I made a beeline for the elevator. Sorry."

"Are you okay, Annie?" Fin asked, though he still sounded like he was across the room. I nodded weakly, wishing they would all go away. It was so hard to _breathe_ with all these people in the room. "She just passed out?" he asked incredulously.

"She was shaking through the whole thing, I'm surprised she made it down the stairs."

_All right, all right. That's enough. _

"She should eat something, probably low blood sugar with all this stress," Garcia insisted, snapping her fingers at an avox across the room. Within five minutes, our last supper was laid out on the table with steaming fats and succulent aromas. But I couldn't bring my stomach to want any of it.

"Come on Annie," Fin whispered into my ear, taking my hand, "you have to eat."

I shook my head, not daring to open my eyes. If I did, he'd use the force of his on me and then I wouldn't have a choice. He tugged gently on my hand, but I didn't budge.

"Come on," I heard Mags say, her bony fingers wrapping around my wrist and dragging me up. I stumbled drunkenly after her until the door to my room closed behind us.

"Mags, I can't eat," I groaned, trying to force my eyes open. She didn't talk, but turned me around and unzipped my dress, allowing a rush of air back into my lungs. It was sort of like getting a massive rock taken off of my chest, I didn't realize how uncomfortable it was until it was gone. "Thank you," I gasped, feeling my stomach.

"Go take a shower," she instructed, pointing for the bathroom, "I'll get some clothes out. Once you're cleaned up, come on in here and get dressed then come to dinner."

I looked at her and crossed my arms over my chest. "I _can't _Mags."

"Honey," she said, looking at me kindly, "that boy out there loves you, you've gotta try and be strong tonight or it's going to break him to pieces. It's your last night together, unless you get out of there and that's a one in twenty-four shot." I stared at her and fought the swelling of tears. "The shower will help honey, I know it's hard, but you'll feel better. I promise."

She dropped a comfortable gray sweater and black pants on the bed before leaving the room. I sighed and obeyed her instructions, letting the hot water wash away the confusion and put some sense back in my head. I stepped out and looked at myself in the mirror. Pale, too thin, sad. I decided not to let the machine style my hair, I just left it wet. In a way it sort of felt like home after going swimming, only the water didn't make my hair sticky. I pulled the sweater and pants on, liking the way the fabric felt on my skin.

I pulled out the pad of paper they left on my nightstand and with a pen, wrote notes to my loved ones. To Pearl, to Echo, to Stephen and Kai, and of course, Finnick. I even wrote one to Mags to say a quick thanks. They weren't long, beautiful, or poetic. Just quick, heartfelt 'I love you's. I folded them up and put them in a drawer until it came time to deliver them.

I felt clearer, even a little stronger. That's when I saw the avox in the corner, silently staring at the floor. She looked so empty, so sad. This whole time I'd been so wrapped up in myself, I didn't even think about others. Even when they were standing right there. I bet an avox never heard a kind word in their lives.

"I like your hair," I told her with an affirming nod. She glanced up at me with wide eyes, taken completely by surprise. "I'm serious," I pressed, "I like what you did with the twists. It's beautiful."

I left after that because I knew she couldn't talk, and didn't want to stay in that awkward moment where I stand there in silence while she gargles words she can't say. I sat down next to Finnick without a word and started piling on food. Who knew when I'd get to eat again? And what's more, it was my last night with Finnick, and while that made me feel like and cold, it also meant I couldn't tap out and miss it. Not yet.

I ate with my right hand, but I let my left hand drop and gently laced my fingers with Fin's. He kept his face straight and his eyes forward, but he responded with a firm, comforting squeeze. Warmth spread up my arm and through my chest and limbs. I never wanted to let go of his hand, it was warm, safe, strong and familiar. I sat there, talking to the table, eating, and remembering my manners as if nothing was going on. But in my head I was feeling the calluses on Finnick's skin, I was tracing the lines on his knuckles, rubbing the warmth in his palms. Such a simple, private gesture, and it was more intimate than any kiss I'd ever experienced. He was here for me, no matter what. I could feel it.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Fin placed his hand on the nape of my neck, our foreheads connecting silently. His free hand clasped mine, resting somewhere between our laps. I didn't say anything, I didn't have to. Moonlight flooded the room, giving everything around us a blue and silver glow. Like being underwater, almost. My heart swelled and I lifted our hands to my mouth, pressing my lips the bridge of his fingers. This seemed to stir him and his hand tilted my head back so that he could kiss my lips. I responded, swelling my entire body to meet him, wrapping my arms around his neck like a vice.

"If I get out of this," I breathed between kissing, "I'm never letting you go. You're mine."

He swept me up so that my head was rested on the pillows, and he laid down in front of me with his arm around my waist. "_When_ you get out of this," he corrected, kissing the end of my nose, "I'm with you forever. You don't have to worry."

"I'm not worried," I answered, pushing his shoulder down so I could rest on his torso and kiss his neck. I moved to the line of his jaw, beginning below his ear and down to his chin. His hands ran up my back and sent chills running down my arms. It was easy to feel brave when Fin was there to be strong for me. Our mouths connected again, and for a while there was no talking.

Eventually we were tired of kissing and talking, so we just wrapped up in each other and stayed there. I might have drifted off to sleep at some points, but I could never tell. My dreams were about holding Finnick, and my waking was the reality of it. This might be the last time I would hold him like this, the last time I felt the heat of his skin pulsing against mine, watched the way his chest rose and fell when he slept. Sunlight was starting to ease back into the room and tears rolled from my eyes over the bridge of my nose, disappearing into the pillow beneath me. I didn't want to let go. I didn't want to leave him.

Fin must've woken up at some point, because when I took in a shaky breath, his arms tightened around me. I buried my face into his neck and cried, no longer able to keep the front. I'd never see Pearl again, nor Echo, nor Stephen or Kai. I'd never go home to my beach and collect shells and tie nets. I'd never go fishing off the docks or paddle out in a wooden boat to spend the day free from the peacekeepers. I'd never swim in the ocean or taste the salt in the air.

"_Shhh_, Annie, it's okay."

I squeezed my eyes closed and clenched my hands to fists against his back. Finnick stayed silent and held me, occasionally kissing the top of my head. I wonder what it was like for him on this morning, with no one there to hold on to him. I felt the bracelet of shells digging into my wrist and suddenly very thankful I ever made it in the first place.

"Wake up, wake up, wake up!" Garcia called through the door, rapping it with her knuckles quickly. "Today's the day!" I wonder if she knew Finnick was in here with me every morning that she did that. Fin held me at arm's length and looked me over, wiping some remaining tears off my cheek.

"It's going to be alright Annie, I promise."

I took a deep breath and forced a smile for him. I got up then and put on some simple clothes, knowing I'd have to change out of them later. When I turned around, Finnick was standing with his hands shoved in his pockets.

"I wanted to say good-bye here," he said weakly, "I didn't want it to be in front of people."

I nodded, not yet able to bring myself to close the gap between us.

"No matter what happens," I began, "I'm glad I got to spend the time I did with you. It's the happiest I've ever been, and I wouldn't trade it for the world."

He topped me, "I'm never going to stop fighting for you. I never would have survived if you hadn't stepped into my life. You're the kindest, most genuine person I've ever met and I'm never going to stop looking after you. I promise."

"I love you," I said firmly.

"I love you," he echoed, boring into my eyes. We each took a few steps forward and then slammed our lips together, clutching one another with final desperation. Like trying to hold on to sand when underwater; no matter how tightly you clasp your fingers, the sand still falls through and floats to the bottom of the sea. I could feel myself slipping away from Finnick, which made me cling harder. Finally, when kissing wasn't enough, he pulled me into him and just held me there. I cherished this last moment, remembering the way his skin feels against my face, the smell of his hair, and the way his hands traced every line on my body.

Garcia knocked impatiently again, so we reluctantly broke apart.

"See you soon," Fin said regretfully, stroking my hair. I kissed him once more, as a comfort, as a good-bye, and then let him leave.

_Do. Not. Start. Crying. Again._

I swallowed the growing lump in my throat, squared my shoulders, and walked out of my room. Not before taking the notes out of my drawer and laying them out on the table for someone to find. Hopefully not until after I was locked in the arena.

Troy was standing at the elevator next to Mags, looking straight ahead and stone-faced. I wished I could look that brave. The walk for me sort of felt like the march up to the noose, all that was missing was a drum.

Finally, Garcia, Mags, and Finnick—freshly dressed—congregated and faced us with set expressions. Finnick's mask was up and he spent most of the time looking at Troy.

"Okay, now, remember;" Finnick began with an instructive tone, "Annie, don't stay for the bloodbath at the Cornucopia, just get out of there. Troy, it's up to you with this one. If you have a shot at some good supplies and weapons, go for it. But don't linger, don't get caught up with the battle and forget to survive. Both of you; find a safe place to sleep. Get water. Stay alert. No fires at night, even if you're freezing. Use everything you can for warmth except a fire. You'll just end up dead."

We nodded, soaking in his every word. Garcia kissed us each goodbye and scampered off to take care of scheduling and something to do with a cad named Effie Trinket.

"Stay safe, make us proud," Mags said warmly, kissing us each and wrapping us in a sweet, motherly hug.

"Good luck," Finnick said, shaking Troy's hand firmly. He turned to shake my hand, and when our palms connected, I locked my eyes with his. Everything he needed to say was burned into those shocking, sea green eyes I fell in love with.

_Good-bye. I love you. I'll be watching._

I smiled back, only breaking his gaze when a peacekeeper prodded Troy and me to the elevator. "Thanks for everything," Troy and I said together. I caught one last glimpse of him, my Finnick, before the doors closed and locked us in the black, descending box.

My whole body turned to ice, and suddenly the air was tight again.

_Breathe. Just keep breathing. _

Troy was motionless beside me, but I could tell his head was whirling with thoughts. It's something you can feel in the air, almost tangible. All the rest of it was a blur, a cold, miserable blur. I was dressed in sturdy cargo shorts that were folded halfway up my thigh with deep pockets and reinforced belt loops. My shirt was a black tank with a loose, half-sleeved gray shirt over top.

"Is it going to be warm then?" I asked in a small voice, letting my stylist lace the thick belt around my hips.

"Not necessarily, though it won't be freezing. Judging by these shoes, you'll be doing a lot of walking. They gave you two shirts most likely because it'll be varying in temperature. At least it's a comfortable outfit," he said with a curvy grin. I didn't smile back, but nodded. My hair was pulled up into a ponytail, and I rubbed the sore spot on my arm where they injected the tracker.

"Off you go," the stylist chirped, "it's been a pleasure dressing you, my dear."

"Thank you," I said distantly.

_Tell him about the notes._

"Oh," I turned, my feet just landing in the tube, "I have notes for my friends in my bedroom on the nightstand. Make sure they get to the right people?"

He nodded and gave me an out-of-place thumbs up.

Suddenly the tube closed and I think I had a heart attack. Up, up, up. It was hissing in my ears like a violent snake. I thought about running, about hiding, when I was blinded by a burst of white light.

_I guess this is good-bye._


	24. Chapter 24

**24**

**The Canon**

I sat down with numbness settling in my hands, gluing my eyes to the screen. Twenty-four platforms rose into a grassy field, each carrying a different victim. Annie was standing on the one furthest left, pieces of her hair flying around wistfully as the breeze hit her. The field was saturated in flowers of thousands of colors that glowed with an ominous light.

Five.

_Remember to run, Annie._

Four.

_Stop looking around and focus!_

Three.

_Troy had better keep his promise…_

Two.

_That's right, prepare. Get ready to run away._

One.

_Annie…_

The horn blasted and the circle exploded in a frenzy of movement. The camera's were shaking and flashing, making it nearly impossible to track just one particular person.

"Come on!" I shouted in frustration, hitting the side of my fist against the screen. I just needed to see that she was safe…that she got away.

The camera's caught a shot of Troy diving into the supplies, whipping out a sword and large pack of supplies. None of the Careers were going after him…surely though it was a trick. The kids from One and Two all fought off the other children, picking at the outskirts of the supplies like seagulls or vultures. Three dead, the canons fired out with explosive booms. Where's Annie?

That's when I saw her, quivering on her platform. Had she even moved at all?

"_Move Annie!"_ I shouted, but I knew she couldn't hear me. I watched in horror as she shook her head and fell to her knees, her palms stretched out in front of her. My heart caught in my throat.

_No, this can't be the end. Not yet. Move, Annie, please…_

Two more died, the cannons lashing my ear drums. Now the Careers were fanning out from the mouth of the Cornucopia, killing a boy that dared to hide amongst the supplies. Troy stalked with them, and all I could do was pray that he would get to Annie before the others did. She wasn't moving, she was just waiting for death.

"Look what we have here," Gerod sneered, creeping over to her like a wet dog.

_Oh no. No no no no no._

"Please," Annie quivered in a small voice. Please what? Please kill you?

"Hey there, beautiful," he chuckled, kneeling in front of her. His bloodstained hand tipped her chin up, almost gently, so that she would face him. But Annie kept her eyes trained on the ground, though I could see her lip shaking.

_Don't touch her you sick, twisted bastard…_

"Can I have that kiss now, sweetheart?"

Annie let out a tiny sob, her shoulders shaking with the spasms raking her body. Troy was looming behind, watching them. _Save her,_ I begged. _Please save her._

"What's wrong?" Gerod continued, gripping her chin more harshly, "You don't _want_ to kiss me?"

Annie shook her head, though it was slightly lost in the amount of shaking her body was doing. Gerod furrowed his brow and pushed her face away so that she tumbled backwards, catching her weight on her elbows. "Then I have no further use for you."

He raised his sword, the light of the sun sliding up and down the blade. Annie's eyes grew wide, darting desperately between Gerod and Troy.

"Sorry," Troy shrugged, a nonchalant smirk crossing his face, "Nothing I can do."

Gerod laughed and the next beat, his sword plunged towards the earth and ran straight through Annie's heart.

The canon thundered a second later, confirming my worst fear.

"NO!" I choked, pounding my fist against the screen, "Annie! _Annie!"_ Overwhelming grief clamped its fingers into my throat, strangling me with its iron grip. I was suffocating. I fell to my knees, my hands lingering on the screen as it showed a close up of Annie's lifeless face.

_Annie's dead. My Annie was dead. Her heart stopped beating._

Someone entered behind me, cold empty footsteps rattling against the walls of the room and my head. When they stopped behind me, I knew by the sick, oily smell who it was.

"Hello, Mr. Odair."

"Ivan," I strangled, "go away. Please."

"I've brought someone here to see you, Odair."

Another person entered the room with slightly heavier, louder footsteps. I looked up to see who it was, but I could barely see through the water welled up in my eyes. A tall old man with white hair.

Snow.

"The Famous Finnick Odair," he hissed, "nice to finally get some alone time with you. It's been a pleasure having you on my service, you're like…the regiftable gift. It doesn't matter who gave it to you, or how many times your used, we just wrap you up with a shiny new bow and pass you on to the next delighted good girl. Thank you, for that."

Sobs wracked my body and my head hung from my neck. I didn't have the energy for this, my heart was currently collapsing in on itself. "Annie…" I groaned, curling up on the ground.  
>I think he sat down on the ground next to me and patted my shoulder.<p>

"My, my, yes, she didn't last very long, did she?"

"You…you k-killed her."

"That's what happens when you deny the Capitol, my dear boy," he said simply, "When you deny _me._"

_It can't be over. She can't be dead already. She never even got a chance._

"But I didn't. You _said_ I could do what I wanted!"

"We did," he said patronizingly, "the choice was yours. Stay at home and risk the lives of your loved ones, or do as your told and save them. You, what was it? Ah yes, you did what you wanted."

I sobbed and let the agonizing waves of grief wash over me. I wasn't going to survive this. It was over for me.

"Miss Cresta is dead because of you, and you alone."

_Dead. Annie's dead. Gone, cold, forgotten._

"Where is she?" I whimpered.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Where is she?" I repeated, lunging up at the collar of Snow's jacket. A gunshot rang out and a searing pain pierced my shoulder. I collapsed, not sure whether to grip my shoulder or my heart.

"I just want to see her," I choked, not attempting to stop the flow of tears. "_I want to see her!"_ My voice reminding me of a child, but I couldn't stop. "I n-need to say g-goodbye."

I was lifted, bleeding and shaking, by a peacekeeper and ushered out the door. I don't know where we walked, or for how long, but we stopped at the landing station of the aircrafts. Bodies were being carried off the platform, belonging to dead children I didn't know. Finally, Annie's was lifted from the craft and rolled on a gurney in front of me. The sight of her white skin, her blue lips, the stain of blood on her chin…I fell to my knees and rested my head against the cold metal bed.

"I'm sorry!" I cried, shaking my head, "Annie! I'm so, so sorry!"

She didn't answer. Of course she didn't. Because she was dead.

There was the distant fire of a canon that resonated in my ears, reminding me of what I'd done.

All of a sudden a cold hand slapped my face, bringing me up from this bottomless pit of grief and into reality.

Where was I? It looked like the couch on the flat…

_It was a dream Finnick. It was all just a dream._

Relief washed over me with so much intensity, actual tears sprang to my eyes. Mags was standing over me with a frown pasted on her face.

"Wake up Finnick, the games are about to start. You don't want to miss it, do you?"

_Annie wasn't dead. Not yet. She could still live._

"Oh Mags," I gasped, standing up and kissing her sincerely, "Yes. Let's go."

Canons were going to fire, but they weren't going to be Annie's. I couldn't relive that dream. I would kiss the bottom of Snow's shoes if I had to. No matter what happened, I was _not,_ was not, going to hear that canon.

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

Where was I?

I blinked to adjust my eyes to the light and saw what looked to be an remains of an abandoned prairie town with a river gurgling in the distance, tall yellowing grass tickling my ankles, and weathered, broken farm houses with pale blue and white shingles dotting the landscape. Vast plains, with a thinned forest lapping at the edges of the fields. In front of me was a large Cornucopia filled with gray bags. No weapons were immediately visible, which made me think their aim was to force people to scavenge for supplies, that not all of these indistinguishable gray sacks held something useful.

I blinked again. Someone was counting down from thirty. In a circle stood the twenty-three other tributes, all gawking at their surroundings or preparing to charge. I was here, I was really here. After watching these games on television all my life, it felt so surreal to actually be the one _in_ the game.

_This is a nightmare._

Suddenly my legs started trembling and I could hear my heartbeat in my ears. I could make out the Careers, all towering over the rest of us in height, their eyes glued to the Cornucopia, no doubt sizing up each pack and wondering where to search first.

_Remember to run, Annie. Finnick told you to run._

But I couldn't, could I? Didn't I need food? I couldn't starve to death, that would be miserable.

_Ten._

My eyes fell on a pack only a few feet in front of me.

_Nine._

I know I can get it. I have to.

_Eight._

I'll die otherwise.

_Seven._

My heart…

_Six._

I think I'm going to pass out…

_Five._

Thud, thud, thud, thud.

_Four._

_THUD. THUD. THUD. _

_Three._

Try to focus…

_Two._

This is it…

_One._

Now?

The alarm sounded and everyone took off in every which direction. I stumbled forward, tripped over my own shaking feet, and fell on my face in the grass. There was no time to sink into the dirt or feel embarrassed, I staggered upright and went for the pack again.

_Why is the world __**tipping?**_

It was like trying to stand up straight on a ship in the middle of a thunderstorm. Every time I tried to move forward, I fell sideways. My heart was in my throat, my pulse thundering in my ears.

_Thud, thud, thud, thud._

Someone screamed. I looked up in time to see the blood spraying from some girl's neck wound as she collapsed in a heap on the supplies.

_Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no._

"Augh!" Gerod ran a boy with curly red hair through was a bayonet. Crimson spilled out onto the grass like in silky ribbons. I could feel my own cold blood reaching for it, calling to it.

_Go deeper Annie. Go chase the blood._

What was happening to me? My thoughts didn't make sense, why wasn't I running? I had to get out of here, I had to go…

"Please, no! DON'T!"

The sound of metal pulverizing flesh with that slushy, meaty thwack resonated in my ears, setting me in a daze. The sound of bone being crushed turned my skin to ice. Surely I was in Hell.

My eyes found the pack again. The gray bag, the key to my survival. I crawled over the dry crunchy grass and dug my fingers into its slippery fabric, yanking it up and hugging it to my chest.

_Now get the hell out of here!_

I looked up screamed as a girl only four feet away flew sideways, a hammer crushing into the side of her head. The boy from Two, Simon, stood in her place and looked grimly at his weapon that now held traces of bone, blood, and human hair.

I doubled over, dizziness washing over me at thickly as the smell of gore rising in the air.

"You're next," he growled, stalking towards me with the hammer raised. I tried to crawl away, but I was shaking so badly. He was right above me. In a last ditch effort, I lashed out with my feet and slammed my heel into his shin, taking the opportunity to dash under his legs and run away. But I was only moving deeper into the thick of the battle, and the sight of four mangled corpses and six others alive but half-way there stopped me dead in my tracks. I reeled forward at the sound of a smash behind me and tripped over something. I shut my eyes in pain as my teeth clamped down into the flesh of my lip, blood immediately dribbling into my mouth. When I opened my eyes I froze, staring down at my hands that had disappeared under a pool of blood.

_I'm going to be sick._

I lifted my gaze to see Simon above me, smirking. "Good-bye, pretty lady."

A spear suddenly jutted out from his stomach, his face going blank in shock. What was happening? Why wasn't I dead?

Simon collapsed and Troy stood behind him, gripping the stained spear with a grimace twisted on his face.

_Troy…_

"Come on," he said quickly, grabbing my arm and pulling me forward. I wobbled a few steps forward and then collapsed again.

"_Come ON, Annie!"_

I blinked up at him in disbelief. "What are you doing?" I choked. My voice didn't sound right in my ears, something was wrong with it.

He growled and hoisted me up by the arm, dragging me out of the thick of gray packs. "I'm _trying_ to help you, but you've got to _move._"

I stumbled blindly by his side until some tall lanky boy charged us. Troy dropped me and positioned his spear. The boy's club glanced off of his cheekbone, but in the force of his swing, his body lurched forward and impaled itself onto Troy's spear.

"Run," he breathed, gathering me up again. There was no sign of anger in his eyes anymore, just urgency and even concern. "I'm on your side, I promise, but you have to run."

Some other part of me that was still functioning propelled my legs forward, though my mind was just whirling and capsizing in a mess of blood and noise and fear. I ran for the trees that Troy had directed me towards, feeling the ground thunder underneath my feet and the grass whip and tear at the skin on my legs. Funny how I felt it without really _feeling_ any of it.

"Don't stop, keep running," Troy grunted as we broke through the trees. His hand locked mine and guided me in the right direction. We toppled down a hill and to the riverbank, where we dove in without a second thought and swam to the other side. It was especially tricky in the middle where the water turned white with the current. If I hadn't been from Four, I don't think I would have made it.

"Okay," Troy panted, pulling himself out of the water. "Okay." He grabbed my arm and heaved me up into a thick of trees and bushes. "We can…stop here…no one's gonna…cross that…river…anytime soon."

I reeled out of the bushes for a moment and threw up, my body rejecting itself for what it had seen. When it was over I retreated into the thick, hugging my arms around myself as the tremors raked up my spine. "It's okay," Troy breathed resolutely, "It's alright. You're safe." He pulled me into his chest and for a moment I wanted to push him away and run, but I realized that it felt better. It was comforting. Nothing compared to what Finnick would have felt right then, but enough to keep me from crumbling.

"W-why are yo-you help-p-ing me?" I whispered, wrapping my arms around his chest in search of warmth. The breeze chilled the water that had soaked into our clothes and caused my teeth to chatter violently.

"B-b-bec-cause," he shivered, "you n-needed he-help."

"That's not-t a go-good answer."

He sighed, "We'll t-talk abou-out it later. S-sleep."

I looked at his chest and saw a line of blood running down his shirt. I sat up and moved back, finally taking the time to observe him properly. His cheek was badly swollen and bleeding, his legs were coated in angry red scratches, and various gashing and bumps coated the exposed parts of his arms and legs. What was underneath his clothes I could only imagine.

"Are y-you in a lot of pain?" I gasped, horrified at the sight of him. He smiled weakly and shrugged, but I could see the wince in his eyes.

_The pack._

I lunged for the bag I had and tore it open. Inside was a flashlight, matches, a dagger, dried fruit and jerky, an empty water bottle, a blanket, two sleeves of crackers, a tin of nuts, a roll of thin bandages, and some sharp smelling ointment.

"Jackpot," Troy murmured with a thin smile. I unfolded the blanket and wrapped it around his shoulders before returning to the rest of the supplies. "What do you think this does?" I asked, wrinkling my nose at the smell of the ointment.

"Probably disinfectant."

I shrugged and slathered some onto the bandages and got to work on patching him up piece by piece. We both ended up stripping down to our undergarments and hanging our wet clothes on the branches to dry out. I didn't like the idea of being so exposed in front of all of Panem, but in Four, nudity was hardly something that turned heads. Troy and I were perfectly comfortable in the bare minimum. But that didn't mean I wanted _everyone_ to see.

Once Troy's worst wounds were covered and cleaned, he looked a lot more manageable. There was no way to wrap his cheek, so I just dabbed the sticky stuff on it and hoped it would help.

"You don't look very good," he said finally, once I'd finished the work on his shoulder.

_Really? Because I feel just wonderful._

"It's okay," I said in a quieter voice than I meant. He pursed his lips and swiped the remaining liniment off my finger, dabbing it on a painfully sore spot on my lip. "Thanks."

He nodded and laid back. "There's no point in moving right now," he said, "we should really rest anyway. There will be plenty of time for running later."

I nodded and stood up; but the moment my knees straightened out, my eyes filled with colors and I smelled lightning until my body hit the ground. Blackness crept around the edges of my mind, threatening to drown me in it.

"Annie?"

I couldn't answer him, my tongue felt swollen and useless. I think he grabbed something and left momentarily, returning with the water bottle now full to the brim. "Here."

He tipped the bottle to my lips and let a steady stream of water flow out. "Thank you," I muttered, closing my eyes. He dragged me up against a tree and tucked the blanket around us.

"You sleep first," he said quietly, "I'll wake you up in a few hours."

"What's wrong with me?" I whispered, my head rolling around with the wooziness.

Troy sighed and pressed my head down to his shoulder so it would stop moving. "Probably stress. You've seen a lot today already."

That's when the canons started firing, now that the bloodbath was over. Ten dead. I shuddered and closed my eyes, trying to block out the world.

Of course, sleep offers the most dark and twisted pieces of your subconscious to come alive.

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

It was a bittersweet moment. On the bright side, Annie had gotten out of the first stage alive and almost unscathed. On the other end, she was wrapped up half-naked with another boy and pale as a sheet of paper. I could only hope she wasn't going into shock, because _that_ would be dangerous.

As soon as she went to sleep I rushed out of the center. The Capitol had screens everywhere to broadcast the games so I never had to worry about missing something. I jumped in a cab and headed for the nearest party that had invited me, and burst through the doors with insatiable enthusiasm.

"Hello everybody!" I declared, wrapping my arm around the shoulder of the nearest girl. It was time to get to work.

o-o-o-o-o

The Careers were furious at Troy's betrayal, so halfway between a private session with an older citizen, I looked up to see Gerod trying to torture his location out of the girl from Five.

_Yikes._

"Something wrong?" the woman I was with asked, propping herself up on her elbows.

"No, just you know, checking on my tributes."

She rolled her eyes and kissed my neck. I started back into it when I heard Annie's scream tear through the room.

"What the—"

I spun around to see the television, completely forgetting the woman, whatever her name was. Annie was thrashing in her sleep and screaming, her face drained of all color and twisted up in horror or pain of some kind. Troy was anxiously trying to shut her up, but the sound didn't go unnoticed by the other tributes.

"Annie, wake up!" Troy hissed, finally grabbing her shoulders and shaking her until her eyes opened wide.

"Don't touch me!" she shrieked, trying to tear away from him, "You! You're going to kill me!"

Troy looked dumbfounded and stretched out his arms to catch her like some kind of rabid animal. "Annie, you're safe, it was just a dream."

"I am _not _safe!" she cried, tears springing into her eyes, "I'm in the Hunger Games. Of course I'm not safe! How do I know you're not going to slit my throat in my sleep? You _said_ you were asked to kill me—"

"No one asked me to kill you—"

"Liar!"

"Annie listen to me!" Troy grabbed her shoulders again and held her down. "I made a deal…with someone. If I help you and don't betray you, regardless of the outcome, my family will be taken care of. Okay? So you can trust me, because if I betray you, I betray them."

"How do I know you're not lying about your family? This is a trick."

"Because if I wanted you dead, I could've just left you to die at the Cornucopia. Honestly Annie, what more do you need?"

She fell quiet for a moment, soaking that in. Then her face contorted with anguish and she started crying.

"This girl is a Looney," the woman beneath me sighed. I shot her a reproachful look and then snapped back to the screen.

"I'm sorry Troy," she wept, reaching out to hug him. He looked genuinely confused, and then seemed to melt into pity. "I didn't mean to get angry with you, it's just, I had this nightmare and you…"

"Shhh, Annie, it's okay."

He stroked her hair comfortingly until she had quieted, then looked around nervously. "We have to go," he whispered. "Someone probably heard you screaming."

He limped around their camp, shoving all the supplies into the gray pack, brandished his spear, and then led Annie by the hand out of the thicket of trees. They moved silently from place to place until settling down in a well hidden, secluded area near the roughest part of the river, where no one could cross without getting swept away.

_Well done, Troy._

"Are you going to finish what you started here, Gorgeous?" what's-her-name asked with an attempt at a sultry look. I regretfully turned from the screen and flashed her a grin.

"You better be a generous sponsor for my tributes," I told her with a hint of humor in my voice. She giggled and nodded, her purple lips curling up into a grin.

"I promise."

From what I could tell behind me, Troy and Annie were no longer of interest. Other kids that didn't matter to me danced around the screen, slipping in and out of life. I usually tried to follow the other tributes better, but this year I couldn't let myself like anybody. Because they would all have to die.

That night I didn't sleep. I met up with five girls and succeeded in seducing all of them and getting them to join their coin purses up with my cause. With any luck, I'd be sending Annie her first parachute by tomorrow.

"Get some sleep," Mags ordered when I finally crawled back into the flat, "I'll wake you if anything happens."

I nodded groggily and collapsed onto the couch. All night I watched Annie die, Annie come home, and Annie scream.

Then I woke at the crack of a canon.


	25. Chapter 25

_Hey sorry this took so long to get uploaded, I haven't forgetten you guys!_

**25**

**The White Wolf **

The kids this year were ruthless. Troy had found the perfect hiding place for him and Annie, but the rest were not fairing as well. It was day three in the arena and though it was later than I wanted, I finally got the go-head to send them some bread.

"Hope this helps," Lacy winked when she handed me the check. Lord knows what she would have me to do make up for it later.

"Thank you."

It paid for ten bread rolls, freshly baked, with a slab of butter and a flat wooden tool to spread it with. Had it been a knife, the price would have skyrocketed. I packed each of them carefully under the watchful eye of the gift monitors, making sure not one crumb was left behind. I held the last crescent roll in my hand and said a quick prayer that it would help Annie come home. And then for love and luck, I kissed it before tucking it away amongst the others.

"All set," I said casually, strutting out of the room so the package could be delivered. Annie hadn't been able to sleep for the two nights she spent in the arena because she kept having nightmares. This third day she had a hauntingly ghostlike look to her and moved as if she were sick. She didn't feel like eating the dried foods found in the pack and certainly didn't feel like plotting any death traps with Troy. I guess I could count myself lucky he'd stayed with her this long.

o-o-o-o-o-o

Day five. There was so much action going on with the other tributes, the gamemakers hadn't chased Annie and Troy out of their hiding place yet. They did run out of food however, but it was easy enough for me to get the funds to send them some staples. I had to hand it to Troy again, he was doing an excellent job and stopping Annie from saying my name in any way that suggested we knew each other outside the games. But the Careers—Both from One and the girl from Two—were plowing through the population and only ten were left alive altogether. There was two minor earthquakes too that had knocked rocks down on one kid and took out the frame on one of the abandoned houses. The houses, from what we saw, were all but empty on the inside. Minimal, rotted out furniture, broken windows with tattered curtains, and floors made of nothing but a few broken planks that would fall over at the slightest disturbance. But they were also sort of charming. Pale, broken things you could see straight through, all of them having an untold story. They reminded me a little of Annie.

The mentors from all the Districts had an event tonight to talk to sponsors and aspiring gamemakers. I dressed up in a sharp suit with blue trim and a silver tie. It was a swarthy affair and everyone was dressed up to the nines. I wasn't feeling inspired to flirt tonight, so I took refuge next to Johanna Mason who was sulking on the red couch in the lounge corner.

"What's wrong, you don't like parties?" I asked, sipping some green drink from a pointy glass.

"Not especially."

"Sorry about your girl out there, at least she went fast."

Johanna nodded tightly and kept her gaze set forward. "Every year." The screen closest to us showed a shot of Troy and Annie trying to catch fish in the river with the spear, but any fish available were bony and practically inedible. She looked really sick.

"You seem pretty concerned with them," Johanna commented, "haven't come to grips with the fact they're going to die?"

I snapped my eyes back on her, "Excuse me?"

"Usually seasoned mentors don't have a lot of hope for their kids, you know, to avoid the crushing depression afterwards."

"Well I haven't given up yet," I shrugged, trying to appear casual. But she was scrutinizing me, like she was putting together some kind of puzzle. "What?"

"You like her, don't you?"

"Who?"

"The girl, from your district. I can see the way your moping at that screen. You have _feelings_ for her."

I suddenly frowned, "What do you know?"

She grinned and leaned in quietly, "Are you going to tell me about what happened, or not?"

"Why should I?"

She shrugged and took a sip of her drink, "What better thing do we have to do right now? Also, I would like a nice distraction."

I stared at her intently and then said, "I can't talk about it."

In all the years she's been a victor, I never spoke a lot to Johanna. But I liked her. She was a take-no-nonsense hard ass who didn't give a flying crap about anyone's feelings, but I liked her. Something in the way she walked told me there was a lot more than the exterior she put off. "Come with me."

She grabbed my hand and pulled me gracelessly through the crowd with a few false "excuse me's" laced with pure venom. I had to admire the firmness of her grip though, I could barely feel my hand by the time she locked me in the elevator and punched the buttons.

"Where are we going?"

"Somewhere we can talk like we're _not_ caged animals."

I stood silently, not quite sure what to think until the elevator stopped and I found myself on the highest roof in the entire city. "Woah."

"Not afraid of heights, are you Finnick?"

I swallowed and shook my head, but I think she knew I was lying. "Come on, over here."

We sat down and once I got used to the elevation, I realized how beautiful it was to be looking down at the city. Like multicolored stars twinkling below.

"So you love this girl, Annie?" Johanna was sitting back on her hands while dangling her legs casually over the edge. It was almost like a dare for me to come do it too. But…in the end…I'm not brave enough to do something like that.

"Yes."

"Did you fall in love with her after or before she was reaped?"

"Um…long before I guess."

Johanna bit her lip and swung her legs pensively, "Interesting."

"Can you not do that?"

"Do what?"

"Swing your legs like that. I'm just waiting for you to topple over the edge."

She smiled and leaned forward, making my stomach drop. "Oh come on Fin," she chuckled, "it's just a little drop. What do you have to lose?"

"A lot, actually."

She threw me a tight smile and swung her legs back onto solid ground. "Must be nice."

"What happened to you?" I asked suddenly. I'd heard rumors that Johanna had done something to piss off some people from the Capitol, but the fact that she still showed up every year told me they weren't true. And yet she acted cold enough to be a war hero.

"You first." She crossed her arms expectantly, "I don't know what to make of you. For a while I just thought you were a whore, but then some slime ball named Bensen called me and tried to hook me up with some rich guy in the Capitol. They even sent me a dress he wanted me to wear."

"And?"

"I said, your story first. What's the truth behind this Annie and your little Capitol friends?"

I sighed and gave her the most abbreviated version of the story I knew how. "I won the games and then I fell in love with Annie. For some reason, she loves me back. I refused to go to the Capitol in order to stay with her for a while longer. I thought I'd been good enough to earn a break, and I almost believed it for a while. But then, Annie got reaped."

"So they arranged to have her killed to punish you?"

"Yeah. But she's not going to get killed, I'm trying to make sure of that."

Johanna frowned and gave me a pitying look, "Finnick, if they want her dead, nothing you can do it going to stop it."

"It's not fair!" I hollered, running my hand through my hair, "it's not her fault! It was _never_ her fault, but she's the one that's going to die. They can't do that."

"They can, believe me. They really can. I refused to see that guy. What's more I beat the shit out of the peacekeeper who brought the dress to me. I told the Capitol exactly what I thought of it, and a week later my parents, my sister, my best friends and even my disabled grandmother were all dead. They passed it off as a contagious disease spread amongst family, that I survived because I'd already had exposure to foreign germs in the Capitol, but no one else had. I knew what it was."

"I'm so sorry."

"Not your fault. But in a way I'm glad they did it all at once, rather than torture everyone by picking them one off at a time."

"So…do you have anyone left?"

She pursed her lips, "There's a guy named David. He's my best friend in the whole world, he's sort of kept me together. At least, stopped me from diving into anarchy."

She laughed with just a hint of insanity behind it. "So I support your mission to save your girl. I hope it works out for you I really do. But if it doesn't, just remember that it means your free. They can't have any hold over you if everyone you love is gone."

"Johanna, we can't talk like that even up here…"

"Relax," she cut me off, "honestly, what are they going to do to us now?"

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

I felt terrible. Physically I felt like I was slowly being turned inside out. Mentally I was useless; I hadn't slept a full night since I got in this hell hole and I was almost afraid to think because terrible thoughts were in there. I also felt guilty because Troy was doing all this work to keep me alive and all I could do was try not to trip over him. Every night canons were firing, but none of them were ours and it was all because of him.

"Drink this," he said, handing me the water bottle. I sipped it reluctantly and then set it down on the ground. Out of sight, out of mind. Troy was sharpening a stick with a rock to make as my own spear.

"Why do you think they've left us alone?" I asked solemnly, "I've never seen the gamemakers let two people stay in the same place for so long."

"I don't know, Annie, let's just be thankful for it."

I nodded and then a feeling of dread came over me. Something in the ground was wrong, I could feel it trembling in my bones. "Troy—"

Suddenly the ground seized up and we were thrown sideways along with all the supplies, our brains rattling in our heads and the earth shook us. This had happened a few times since we got into the arena, but never this strong. The sound of tree trunks snapping and splitting set my teeth on edge. Troy crawled over to me—difficult seeing as sometime the ground wasn't there to catch his hand—and pulled me under his chest protectively. I shouldn't let him do this, I shouldn't let him protect me and sacrifice himself, but there was no way for me to actually move.

The tree behind us groaned and I screamed as several branches came crashing around us. If anything hit us, it was Troy who took the blow. Finally the ground went silent and I slowly untangled myself from him. "Are you okay?" I whispered, lifting his face up. He smiled and nodded, meeting my eyes. A switch went on mentally that told me I should look away, but I didn't. Instead, he broke the grass and sat up, stretching out his back. "Are you sure you didn't hurt anything?"

Our campsite looked like a beaver dam there was so many broken and hacked branches. Troy shook his head, "I'm fine. And look at all these new spears we got."

I laughed and tossed one of the sticks at him, "Always the optimist."

We cleared out a space to sleep, but the moment it got dark, I knew something was wrong.

"Troy, do you see those eyes over there?" I whispered. He was trying to sleep, but I was watching the forest and there was certainly a pair of yellow eyes locked with mine.

"What?" he asked groggily, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

"Look. Over there."

Troy squinted into the penetrating darkness and then a look of realization wiped his face clean. "Stay close to me," he whispered, slowly reaching for his spear. I heard it before I felt it; a growl and the sound of leaves crunching, and then ripping pain in my shoulder as I flipped over forward.

"Annie!"

I blinked up at a massive wolf-bear like creature tearing into my shoulder with finger length teeth. Panic set in and I screamed, "TROY! TROY GET IT OFF OF ME!"

Another growl told me that the one I'd been staring at had launched its attack as well. Which mean that Troy would be fighting that one. It also meant I would have to fight this one by myself.

I felt around and clamped my fingers over a stick and swung it up, striking the beast on the snout and then eye, showering me with fur and tree bark. It roared angrily, giving me the opportunity to roll away.

_Weapon, weapon, find a weapon._

My eyes locked with the knife and I lunged for it, my hand accidentally grasping the sharp blade. Troy cried out and I spun around to see two of the monsters bearing down on him.

"No!"

I didn't think, I just ran forward with my knife brandished for the kill, sinking it's metal into the eye of one of the monsters. After that I had this strange feeling of flying and only until I crashed to the floor did I realize how far it'd been thrown.

"ANNIE RUN!" Troy called out, flailing his arms. I blinked at him, dazed, and then screamed as the half blind beast pounced on my leg, the bone breaking with a loud _crack._ So much for running.

It raked me up along with several clumps of leaves and branches until we were back at the camp. Troy was fight with two mutations now, while mine stayed with me.

_Think, Annie, think!_

It's yellow eyes stared down at me hungrily and all hope left my body. I was going to die.

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

"IVAN!" I shrieked, running frantically down the white hall, "IVAN WHERE ARE YOU?"

Screens everywhere were showing the attack on Annie and Troy. I glanced up to see her scream as one of the beasts stomped down on her leg, clearly breaking it. I knew in my experience that mutation weren't to round up the contestants or to scare the players. Their aim was always to kill. They were an execution.

"_IVAN!"_

"Dear Finnick boy, what is this?" Ivan stood in the doorway of a plain, all white room with one computer and a television in it. I lunged inside and fell to my knees, grabbing his shirt.

"Please," I begged, throwing self-respect to the wind, "Please don't kill her. I'll do anything you ask ever, I won't refuse. I don't care what it is just _please_ don't kill her!"

Ivan grinned devilishly and looked at the screen as a monster sunk it's teeth into Troy's arm.

"Oo, that must've _hurt_."

He was so patronizing, it was all I could do not to stand up and punch him.

"Please! Stop the attack right now! I'll do _anything_!"

Just then an invisible door opened and in stepped President Snow. I remembered him from my crowning, though I hadn't seen him sense. Strange how little he ages over time.

"President Snow," I redirected, throwing myself in front of him, "Please, I'm begging you. Let her live. You can kill _me _ if you want, just not her."

"Dear boy, it's a little late for that. Once those beautiful creatures have been given their assignment, they can't stop until it's either fulfilled or they're killed."

I sobbed and looked up at the screen, Annie's face an inch away from the teeth of the beast. "No…"

President Snow's hand caught my jaw and I was forced to look at him. He looked like a wolf himself, a white wolf. Hungry for blood. "Listen to me, boy," he smiled, "you're about to be a very busy worker. You'll do everything without argument, and what's more, you'll put an effort in. Go the extra mile, make it your own, make it _special._ If your quality fails, than so does her heart."

I nodded and allowed a pleading shred of hope in. Snow snapped his fingers and suddenly a tree collapsed behind Annie and Troy's camp, sending a young boy from Seven sailing to the ground. The beasts looked up, found the boy, and then charged after him. He screamed and started running, but they were too fast.

"There, better?"

I didn't answer because I was afraid that I would vomit all over his shoes.

"Run Annie!" Troy cried, stumbling over to her. She shook her head miserably and gestured to her leg with the bone protruding under her skin. He winced and then grabbed under her arm, tripping down the hill until they crashed into the river bank. The canon fired, signifying the boy was dead, and the creatures redirected back for Troy and Annie. Annie's eyes got wide as they came over the hill, but when she turned she saw that Troy was completely unconscious beside her.

"Troy!"

In the last second, Annie tossed Troy into the river and then dragged herself in after him before the beasts reached the bank. I watched in horror as she was tossed about the rapids, clinging onto Troy to make sure his head stayed up. Finally when they hit a calm spot, she paddled over to the shore and dragged him up with her. I felt sick at the sight of her mangled shoulder and the way she tensed with every movement. If her leg stayed like that, it'd be the death of her.

"Wake up," she urged, slapping his face. "Please Troy, wake up."

An irrational hint of jealousy rose in me. In that kind of environment, it must be easy to develop feelings for your lifeline. Surely…Annie and Troy…

He opened his eyes and reached up, grabbing her hand. "I'm alive," he groaned. She smiled and laughed nervously, wiping the wet hair off his forehead. He went to sit up but his foot jostled Annie's leg, forcing her to cry out and collapse with pain. "Annie I'm sorry!" he gasped, but sitting up was too difficult for him and he fell back down. Instead, he took her hand again and let her squeeze it until the pain had resided.

"We need help," Annie whimpered.

That was my cue. I was out of the room and running down the stairs as fast as I could. My fingers dialed Lacy's number and I pressed the phone up to my ear.

"Hello?"

"Lacy, it's Fin. I need to send them some medical supplies, stat."

"I don't know, that's kind of expensive…"

"I'll do anything, Lacy, _please._"

I could practically hear her smiling. "_Anything?_"

"Anything."

"Very well. We'll be waiting for you tomorrow night. As for right now, I'll have an avox bring you the check. Use it well, sweet cheeks."

I shut the phone and stumbled into the gift room, right into Mags' arms. Suddenly I collapsed and let her envelop me in her warmth.

"It's okay honey," she sighed, petting my hair, "It's going to be alright."

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

I might have broken my teeth from clenching them so much, but I couldn't scream. Being too loud would give away our location to others, and we couldn't afford that right now. There was no way we could defend ourselves.

"Annie, look," Troy said weakly, pointing up to the sky. With some effort I lifted my gaze to see a silver parachute come floating down towards us.

_Finnick._

I opened it and found an array of medical supplies I'd seen a few times before, but my eyes fell immediately on the disinfectant and bandages and snatched them up. "This is going to sting," I said abruptly, dumping some of the liquid directly onto Troy's open arm. He arched with pain and then buckled, panting.

"No kidding?"

I grit my teeth and wrapped up his arm to the best of my abilities. My vision was getting blurry so I couldn't really see what else had to be done. "Lay down Annie," he said suddenly, "you're about to pass out. Just lay down."

Dizziness made my head fuzzy and I fell back on the damp river bank, unable to move but still able to take in what was going on around me. Troy moved from my head to below me and then I heard his voice, "Annie, this is going to hurt. But once it's over it will get a lot better."

Pain shot up my body and I let out an involuntary scream as I felt the bones in my leg grind together. "It was a clean break," he said soothingly, trying to quiet me down, "I just needed to reset the bone. They sent us a splint so just hold still."

I did my best to stay silent as Troy worked on my leg, and then disinfected my arm and wrapped that too. Then he pushed a pill past my lips and forced me to swallow it with some river water.

"It'll help with the pain," he said, taking one himself. He looked awful.

"Lay down too," I told him, "you look like you're going to die."

He smiled tightly and said, "Not here, we're too out in the open. We need to hide."

With some effort and a lot of pain, we limped over to a clump of trees where I let myself crumble and succumb to the fatigue. The pill must also make you want to sleep.

"Goodnight," I said groggily. I felt the vibrations of Troy's voice saying something, but my mind slipped into the black.


	26. Chapter 26

**26**

**His Head His Head His Head.**

I was humiliated. In all the years I'd been doing this sort of thing, for the first time in a long time, I felt completely and utterly humiliated. Ivan and Snow's assignments ranged from challenging to disturbing, and then to have to pretend like I enjoyed it…

"Come back to bed sweet thing, I'm not through with you yet," purred the old woman in the velvety bed. Yes, she was quite old. And quite rich.

And quite…rambunctious.

If it weren't for an active imagination I don't think my body would have even physically let myself do this assignment. But with Annie and Troy recovering under the scant protection of a few bushes, I couldn't slack off. I had to forget how much I missed being with Annie, how much I missed holding her to me and feeling her skin and the salty-sweet smell of her hair. I had to channel the Golden Boy who had sex for pleasure and didn't care who he hurt.

"You got it," I chuckled, diving back into her sheets. This was especially humiliating for two reasons. One, I was wearing some underwear that she'd picked out herself. And two, she was taping it.

"Come here," she growled, yanking me violently on top of her. I looked down and saw the way her wrinkly, fat cheeks giggled with every movement. The veins and liver spots coloring her skin like little snakes and toadstools. Her pancake-style breasts deflated after nursing three children. And that goiter…

"Some wrong?" she asked, raking my skin with her long red nails. I shivered and closed my eyes, trying not to lose my focus.

_Think of a better time, Fin. Get somewhere else._

No thoughts were coming to mind other than the length of the hair poking out of her mole. So I tried to make up a fake scenario, but much to my embarrassment and guilt, I thought of Lacy. Her curvy waist and smooth skin and bouncy blonde hair. I had to admit, if I _was_ what everyone thought I was, Lacy would be my top choice. She was beautiful, flirty, smart, and just a little bit twisted. And yet, she was so oblivious and naive of the severity of her lifestyle, it was almost endearing.

"Atta' boy, keep going," the lady said encouragingly, like I was a pony or something. I was also a little surprised when her voice answered instead of Lacy's.

_It's just because Annie's been gone for a while, your mind is trying to cope. Don't freak yourself out._

All the same, I switched to Estelle, my 'first.' She was the epitome of what everyone here thought was sexy. I felt less guilty if I imagined her. And I never thought about Annie in these situations because I felt like that insult her; it would be too filthy and impure.

"Finally!" the woman shouted, a content smile on her face, "that was worth waiting in line for."

I tried not to gag and got away, barely having time to put my clothes on before getting my next assignment. One thing is for sure, Snow was going to take me down if he could, and he wasn't going to play fair.

I crossed paths with Johanna Mason, who got to go home soon because both of her tributes had died, which was partially my fault. "I'll see you around," she said curtly, throwing me a stiff smile. I think she knew that I had something to do with it, she was a smart girl, how could she not?

"Goodbye Johanna, I hope you have a nice year. Maybe see you at a party."

"You know me," she joked before disappearing into an elevator. I smiled and then walked outside to be picked up for my next girl.

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

"How are you feeling?" Troy asked through the dark. I moaned and reached out for his hand, snuggling it into my face. I didn't care who or what it was at this point, I needed creature comfort or my mind would just explode.

"How are _you_ feeling?" I murmured. He made a abrupt sound that told me his answer was the same as mine.

_Like shit._

I reached up and felt his forehead, frowning at the fever I detected there. Had I not used enough disinfectant? Why was he feverish? The anthem played and the deaths of the day lit up the sky.

"How many are left?" I asked quietly.

"Eight."

"Including us?"

"Yep. Us, Gerod and Samantha from One, Jenna from Two, and the boy from Nine, Wyatt or something like that. And two others but I don't know their names."

I nodded and closed my eyes. "Why can't you just let me die?" I said longingly. I was sick of being in pain, everything I did sent new waves of it up and down my body. I couldn't take too much more of this.

"Oh, you know," he sighed, playing with the end of my hair, "then who would be left to sing around the camp?"

"What? I don't sing…"

"Uh, yes you do. All the time. Especially if you're cooking. It's just a little hum, but I'd get lonely without it."

Weird, how I never realized I did that. I wondered if Finnick had ever noticed me humming.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"Finnick, what are you doing?" I asked, pushing my way in cautiously through a glass door. Finnick was on a couch with his arms wrapped about a faceless girl, their naked bodies intertwined.

"You know what I'm doing Annie. I got tired while you were in the games, so I got a new girl to keep me company."

I felt my heart start to break down and tears stream down my face. "Fin…"

"Don't Fin me. We're done, Annie. I don't love you."

I whimpered and leaned against the doorway. "Don't do this, I need you."

He stood up and walked towards me, a cruel look on his face. As soon as he got close, his eyes turned yellow and he sunk his teeth into my neck.

"Augh!" I gasped, sitting straight up. Troy was snoring beside me on the muddy earth, clearly having adjusted to my nightmare routine. His new make-shift spears were piled around him for his own comfort. How could I sleep all night and wakeup feeling so drained?

"No, no, _please_ don't!" It was a girls voice coming from the river bank. I froze with my fingers digging into Troy's shoulder. He opened his eyes and I pressed my finger to his lips so that he'd stay silent.

"It's down to eight Jenna, and I'm sorry, but loyalty to one's district trumps all," Gerod's voice cut across the air. Troy's eyes grew big and he slowly—painfully—sat up.

"I can be of more help to you than _her,"_ the girl pleaded. I peeked through a break in the leaves just so I could see the scene play out. A girl with sandy-blonde hair was cowering on the riverbed while Gerod loomed above her with a menacing hooked machete.

"Sorry."

He plunged the hook into her through and tore it out, the canon firing a second later. My heart was thudding so loud I thought maybe he could hear me. That girl…that poor girl…

_Look at all that blood on the flowers. Blood makes such a pretty red, does it not?_

I shook my head and tried to clear my thoughts. Another girl came through the trees who I assumed was his partner Samantha. "Is it done?" she asked, rolling Jenna over with her foot.

"Of course, it's done."

"We should clear out then, try and find those two idiots from Four…"

Blood was running from the dead girl's neck and into the river, disappearing into the sweeping water. I watched it, I was almost intrigued by it. Something in my mind seemed to be vibrating so that nothing made sense. A purple light fell on world and my feet turned cold, how enchanting that color is…

"Hey, Samantha, look!"

I blinked and snapped my head up, suddenly realizing I was standing in the river.

_What the—_

"Annie!"

Troy's voice cut across the confusion and I registered the two very large people running at me. I tried to run away, but my leg screamed in protest and I collapsed into the mud. Troy came sprinting out of the bushes with his make-shift spears in hand and made a beeline for Gerod and Sam.

"TROY RUN!" I screamed, throwing a wad of mud at him. My heart was in my throat.

_Thud thud thud thud._

Where was my fight? Why couldn't I help him? I was stuck here to the mud, maybe I _was_ the mud. I could just live here forever with the frogs and the weeds, being stepped on, wiped off, and forgotten.

I looked up so see Troy burry his spear in Samantha's stomach. She retched and swung at him, but Gerod reached out and grabbed the scruff of his neck and threw him far enough that he landed close to me.

"Troy," I whispered shakily, "You've got to run, okay? I can't, my leg won't work, but you have a _chance. _Please go…_"_

He looked at me for a second, then reached up and landed a quick kiss on my lips before taking off again. That kiss reminded me of Finnick and suddenly I was full of despair, knowing I'd never see him again. I'd die here, and he would move on. I missed him so much.

"Augh!" I heard a male's voice yell. I looked up to see Gerod holding a wound on his arm. Sam was off to the side nursing her injury, so it was just Gerod on Troy. But something was wrong, Troy wasn't holding his spear correctly.

Then I realized the bite he sustained on his shoulder from the wolves had opened up again and was bleeding straight through the bandage. At this rate, Gerod would kill him injured or not.

"No!" I don't really know what I was expecting to happen if Troy and I lived up to the last two, but I couldn't let him die here. Digging my hands into the muck, and clutched several stones and started throwing them at Gerod's head.

"Leave him alone!" I shouted hoarsely. I think that he actually smiled at me.

_This is too much, I can't handle this. _

Suddenly Gerod twisted Troy's arm, knocked him to his knees, and with one swift movement of his machete, cut straight through his neck.

And the whole entire world went dark.

A ringing started in my ears first. Then the trees twisted into the air like spirals, the ground felt like it was falling. The water in the river…it was blood. There was so much blood. The sky was enflamed with it. And Troy's lifeless, _headless_ body laying in front of me, orchestrating the symphony of red around me. My mind was going to explode.

_People don't explode._

I was. I'm going to explode with this ringing anguish swelling in my head. I was going to go _BANG _like the canon did when Troy died. I tried to move but my whole body was shaking. Was I screaming? It felt like I was screaming…only silently. Why couldn't I scream out loud?

"What's wrong, little girl?" Gerod's voice echoed through my mind. I looked up from the bloody riverbank and saw his terrifying face, contorted and stained with crimson. His eyes were yellow like a wolf's and his teeth were sharp as fangs. He was so tall….like those weird trees…

I saw the flash of the light on his knife and the sky turned back to a bluish white. But the world looked like it was a reflection on the water. "What?" he asked, leaning closer to me.

_Thud thud thud thud._

What was that? My heart?

My heart pumping blood.

That's not possible, all the blood is in the river.

_Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud._

"Are you upset about, _THIS?_" Gerod lifted Troy's head by the hair and shook it in front of me. I screamed.

I screamed because his blue eyes were still open.

I screamed because Gerod was pulling his hair.

I screamed because his mouth was open agape like he was trying to breath.

And I screamed at the frayed, bloody flesh flapping from his severed neck.

But was I really screaming or was it just my mind screaming?

"COME ON, GIVE HIM A KISS!" Gerod yelled, pushing Troy's head in my face. Blood spewed from the open end and splattered all over my arms and face.

"STOP IT!" I bawled, clamping my hands over my ears. I couldn't take it, the sound was in my head. _THUD. THUD. THUD. THUD._

I shouldn't have blood when all of Troy's was gone. And his head was there in front of me. The world was spinning.

His blood was on me and Troy was dead and his head his head his head.

_Spinning spinning spinning._

Gerod, The Monster, laughed crazily and pinned me down, stepping on my hurt leg. The fire it sent up my body sort of tickled. Then his sat on my stomach and shoved Troy's cold, lifeless face against mine.

_No no no no NO NO NO NO NO!_

I opened my mouth and really screamed. I screamed straight from my heart and out my mouth. If I was lucky, maybe I'd scream my heart out and then I'd die. Troy's face was still against mine and when I screamed little droplets of his blood would land on my tongue which just made me scream more. Have I ever been so loud?

I had evil on me. I had to get it off. I reached out for a rock and swung, the solid chunk of it finding a home against bone. The Monster fell off of me and took Troy's head with it. I crawled until my hands landed in the water and then I jumped, hoping the blood would carry me to the heart and I would live there forever away from the Monster.

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

I could just imagine what Pearl was going to do to me, and I was going to let her. I should have let her die. This never should have happened. Why was I so selfish?

Her screams echoed through my head and I thought that maybe I was going insane too.

"Annie," I moaned, closing my eyes, "I'm so sorry…"

She was in the water now, flapping her arms around to keep her head up. I thought about her leg and how much danger she was in, but it was almost a relief. Drowning might remind her of home and give her her mind back or something.

"Finnick, it's going to be alright," Mags assured me, though there was doubt in her voice.

"They took her from me," I choked, "They didn't kill her yet but they tortured her just like Pearl said, and now she's gone."

Mags sighed and pulled out a slip of paper, crumpling it in my hand.

"Annie wrote this before she left," she told me, "you might as well read it now."

I wiped the blurriness from my eyes and looked down at her loopy script.

_Dear Finnick,_

_There's not a lot to say. But I love you. I love you more than anything in the world and no matter what happens I'm going to love you. If I don't come out of this, go home, and forget me. If I do come out of this, no doubt it's thanks to you, and I'm never going to leave. I'm going to love the way your eyes get squinty in the morning, the way you always eat with that stupid crooked fork, and the way you play with my hair right before we fall asleep. I'm going to love you because you're alive, even if you've moved passed me. That's a promise. So, good-bye._

_For now, _

_Annie._

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

The blood spun me and twirled me and swallowed me and then spit me back out. It tasted like water though, so I drank it.

A tree reached out its arms and snagged me, so I crawled up onto the bank.

_Hide, Annie! Hide from the Monster!_

I took off, my eyes set on the houses with the white shingles. Something was slowing my pace but I kept moving, crawling and rolling if I fell. At one point a saw a bird and it said hello and I laughed. But then it's eyes got yellow so I screamed and kept running.

_Thud thud thud thud._

I hate that sound.

I found a house I wanted to hide in. There was still some scraps of stairs left that carried me up to the top floor where I crawled into the corner and hugged my knees to my chest.

"Troy is dead. I saw his head. Troy is dead, I saw his head…" I chanted, rocking myself back and forth. I took my fingernails and tried to scratch off the blood that had caked to my skin, but it didn't want to work. So I cried and asked it to go away, but it still wouldn't. It wanted to live on my skin so it could eat me.

But here in the shadow of the house I could hide from the Monster. I could hear the _thud thud thud _of his heart and could hear his evil weapon dragging in the dirt behind him, digging up the earth's flesh. He wouldn't find me here, I was hiding. This is where I'd stay. There was five monsters running around out there, and I wasn't going to let them get me.

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

"Get her out," I said curtly. Ivan was sitting in his office with a smug look on his face. "I did everything that you said, now get her out. That was the deal."

"We never said anything about what you would get in exchange for your obedience," he responded simply, "just what would happen if you weren't."

I slammed my hands down on his desk in frustration. Ivan moved his pen cup out of the way with a raised eyebrow. "Besides Mr. Odair, do you really even want her anymore? Damaged as she is I can't imagine she would be able to _perform_ half as well as those available to you here."

"_Excuse me?"_

"She's not going to satisfy your needs anymore, she's a broken girl. You would do better to throw her away and forget about whatever mystical hold she has on you."

"Don't talk about Annie like that," I hissed, the rage boiling into my limbs. "Don't _ever_ speak that way about her again."

"Whatever you wish."

"I _wish_ to get her out of there so she can get the help she needs."

"That is out of my hands, sorry. Oh, and here's your new assignments."

My anger boiled over and I slapped the stack of papers out of his hand, sending the listed sheets across the office floor. Ivan blinked at me, but his face was void of expression save for a tiny delighted gleam in his disgusting eyes.

"Pick them up."

It wasn't a question, but warning. Shame and humiliation filled my face because I knew I had to do it, and he knew I knew it too. I got down on my knees and picked up the sheets, rolled them up, and left the office.

"Finnick—" Mags called out to me as I stormed passed. I paused only a minute to say;

"Mags, if that Gerod guy wins, I'm going to kill him. I'm going to saw his head off with a butter knife and then wave it around for the world to see."

"I think you need to take a break, honey."

I brushed her off and went to my room, throwing myself onto the bed.

_You're going to lose it all._

How right you were, Carson.


	27. Chapter 27

_Thanks for all the reviews and new readers guys! It's a joy to write for such enthusiastic readers. Happy reading! But again...not so happy._

**27**

**Fire and Water**

"_Hide hide hide, I can't go outside._

_I don't want food I don't want drink_

_I cannot sleep I cannot think_

_Thud thud thud, the sound of blood_

_Darkness hides me from the beast_

_His eyes are yellow, my flesh his feast_

_Scream scream scream, it's all a bad dream_

_Where is Troy? Poor Troy is dead_

_His body left without his head_

_Scrape scrape scrape, I can't escape_

_This dream has caught me in its jaws_

_Pain a hundred piercing claws_

_I'm trapped, I'm strapped, I'm snapped._

_Hide hide hide, I can't go outside_

_The monster is waiting to chopper off my head_

_Then I'll be like Troy, dead dead dead._

_No more thud, no more blood."_

"Does she really have to keep singing that?" I asked miserably, staring up at the screen. It wasn't just the morbid content that was bothering me, nor the way she kept rocking back and forth and holding her ears. It was impossible for me to get sponsors for the 'mad girl', no matter how much I offered. Not only that, but I couldn't help but feel a tug whenever she said Troy's name. No he wasn't competition, I mean, he was dead, but because part of Annie probably did have feelings for him whether she acknowledged them or not. I'm so selfish I couldn't suppress those feelings even with more important matters at foot.

I was exhausted, but I had one more thing to try. I owed Lacy Templesmith a _big_ favor, and if I supplied an even _bigger_ favor, maybe she could sway her uncle to alter the games in my favor. It was worth a shot, anyway.

My phone rang and I looked down to see her very name scrawled across the ID. I picked it up and listened to her chirpy voice. "Hey Finnick, are you coming now?"

_Channel the Golden Boy._

"Well, well, well, aren't we getting a little ahead of ourselves? I _always_ come _after_ the lady, of course."

_Nailed it._

It took her a second to register what I just said, and then she burst into tittery laughter. "Oh Finnyboy, we are going to have _fun._ Hurry up and get here, will you?"

"I'm on my way."

"Good." She paused for a moment, then said, "I'll be waiting."

When I told Lacy I'd do anything, she must've really taken it literally. Because three other friends were waiting with her when I arrived. "A party?" I asked nonchalantly, stepping inside.

"You can call it that," she answered in a sensual voice. There wasn't a lot of time for introductions, so I just got to work. Once the others had gotten what they wanted and left, I was finally able to be alone with Lacy.

"That was fun," she sighed, popping a cherry into her mouth. I leaned over and retrieved it with my tongue before she was able to chew it, then bit it and pressed my lips to hers. Her body rose up to meet mine and her arms clamped around my back.

"Your stamina is incredible, you're still up for this?" she whispered, nipping my earlobe.

"You have that effect on me. I'm always…_up_ around you."

The line sounded ludicrous even to me, but it worked. She tangled herself up in me and we stayed that way for a _long_ time.

"Lacy," I panted, leaning my head back on the pillow, "I need your help."

"I think I've done all I can do," she breathed back with a smile.

"I mean with my tribute, Annie."

"The crazy girl? Finnick…there's no way…"

"I told you, I owe this to her family."

"That's very noble, but…I don't think there's anything money can do at this point. She's gone. No amount of supplies is going to make her snap out of it."

I sighed and tried not to choke on her words. Yes, I knew that already. That's not what I'm asking for. I need her to nudge the game.

"But the arena itself is a pretty big weapon. And one other guy has died since she went into hiding…"

"The arena? Come on Fin, you know, you're not very good at this pillow talk thing."

"I'm just saying. If someone very…_influential_ just helped lean the game in her direction…crazier things have happened."

"I don't know…"

"Please? Just…talk to your uncle."

She bit her lower lip and said, "Fin, can you keep a secret?"

_Of course I can, I'm keeping millions of secrets._

"Can _you _do a full split?"

She smiled because we both knew she could. "Okay, well, promise you won't tell. That's important."

"I promise."

"They already have the final act of the arena planned out. The arena's going to catch on fire or something like that. I just know that whatever is going to happen, it's going to happen soon. There's not a lot I can do for you."

"The arena's going to catch on fire?"

"Something like that, I don't know."

"Okay…um…I have to go."

"…Okay."

I slid out of her bed, planted a kiss on her cheek for good measure, and then took off out the doors while still pulling on my pants. I don't know what I was going to do, maybe ask Ivan to drop a rock on Annie's head before they slowly cooked her alive, I'm not sure. But I had to do _something._ I was in the taxi listening to the games on the radio when I heard Annie's scream.

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

"_His eyes are yellow, my flesh his feast_

_Scream scream scream, it's all a bad dream_

_Where is Troy? Poor Troy is dead_

_His body left without his head_

_Scrape scrape scrape, I can't escap…"_

_What's that? Who is that out there? In the air, oh no, she's a monster, she must be._

_Yes. Monster. _

"I see your sandy hair, monster…" I whispered to myself, staring out the broken window, "I see you there." It was Her. The Monster's friend from the river. Blood dried onto her stomach like flaking paint. Monsters have blood too, everyone has blood. Except Troy, because he's dead. His blood is in the river making snakes to swim and slither.

Maybe his blood snakes will eat some fish and then it'll be like eating at home.

She was looking for me, I knew it. Her head was twisting around and she was crouching like a little sandy wolf with her talons out. Searching for me. But I was hiding. I was in the dark. If I was quiet, she couldn't find me. Heart was going _thud thud thud_ because it was afraid She would find it and then make it silent. I wouldn't mind Heart being silent for a while, I was sick of its singing. Troy was wrong, singing doesn't make someone less lonely. It makes their ears hurt.

Troy was wrong. If he was right he would have run and he'd still have his head.

I moaned and covered my ears, I didn't want to hear the Sandy Wolf breathing anymore. That husky _heh, heh, heh_, sound. It was a cold sound, it ran it's fingers up my spine. It tried to hurt me, like Raff did. Raff wanted to hurt me.

Everyone wants to hurt me because I'm made of glass.

I know, Pearl told me so.

Not in those words, but it's a thing I know.

I wonder why they can't leave me alone now that my glass is broken?

"I _know_ you're out there!" Sandy Wolf shouted. Heart drummed some more to tell me that it was scared.

"_Shhhh,"_ I told it, hitting my chest with my hand. I could make a thud sound too, Heart.

"Come out, come out wherever you are!"

"Never!" I screamed back, and then slammed a fist over my mouth because shadows and houses only hide you if your silent. Sandy Wolf looked up and my window and I jumped back before her eyes could catch me. Were they yellow? I didn't see. I want to peak.

I poked my eyes over the window sill to see her standing there, smiling at the house. But she wasn't looking at me anymore. She lit a match. That was yellow, the flame I mean. And she used that to light a big fire on a torch. It was red and yellow and orange and all kinds of beautiful and terrifying colors. She struck the dry shingles on the house across from me and also the grass so that it could soak up the color like a sponge. I watched in amazement.

_Uh oh, my neighbors' house is on fire. I hope they aren't home._

_They aren't home silly, they're dead. But their bones are probably somewhere and that's a home too._

She ignited the houses on either side of my house too, filling the air with brilliant light and choking smoke. I could smell the smoke, it smelled good.

But then she laughed hysterically, like a crazy little cackling coyote, and struck my house.

_Fire fire fire, nothing is more dire_

_Than when your house is about to burn_

_There's smoke and flames at every turn_

_You're going to bake and thrash_

_Your skin will turn to ash…_

The house was dry, it's true. And dry things loved fire. The Sandy Wolf ran away laughing as my house became the forth blazing star on the street. I realized the floor was hot and suddenly then walls were engulfed in flames hand the ceiling looked like a tarp or fire and it was crying it's burning tears on me and around me.

Stars aren't pretty on the inside.

"No!" I screamed, trying to crawl away from the fire tears, "Help me! Somebody!"

But who would help me when all there was out there was monsters? They probably wanted me cooked to make me better to eat. They wouldn't want to help me. Dead without my head and cooked.

The floor swallowed the flame and the wood beneath me broke. I came crashing down down down to the floor where I could roll amongst the flames as they licked me like poisonous puppies. Wooden planks crashed around me and I looked down to see me skin on fire, all red and bloody and painful and terrible with blisters like angry eyeballs looking at me.

"HEEEEEEEEEEEELP!"

I screamed because I couldn't take it, I was being turned into an ember and nobody would hear me or see me. The fire puppies jumped up on my chest and pinned me down, licking me over and over with their eager, terrible little tongues.

"Stop it!" I shrieked, trying to push them away. But puppies love to lick, especially when made of fire. I looked down at my hands again. They were burned down to the bone. White bone. I was surprised I didn't have glass bones.

And the pain. The pain was terrible. So terrible that no matter how loudly I screamed I couldn't get rid of it. It was eating my skin, turning me inside out. I looked up to the sky and saw a flash as the whole house collapsed.

And then it was over.

There was no fire, no flame puppies licking my skin. My skin was fine. Okay, well maybe not fine. But it wasn't burning. There were no bones showing, but tons of splinters and scrapes. I looked up to see I'd managed to fall from the old loft I was sitting on and down to the floor. My leg with the splint was bare again, the splint gone. The bone was sticking out of my skin. That would explain the feeling of fire. It wasn't real. Had the girl even been there? Probably not. It was all in my head.

"Scream scream scream, it's all a bad dream."

I curled up into a ball and let the tears run down from my eyes off the bridge of my nose. The pain wouldn't go away. The fire was gone, but I still felt the pain. Why couldn't I just die? I didn't want to hear the thud anymore. Heart could stop singing, I could stop seeing. Monsters were out to eat me, then fine, eat me. Drown me in blood.

I didn't want to be in the house anymore, it smelled like dust and it made it hard to breath. It was too painful to move.

And then the earth began to quake, my teeth banged together like hammers. I screamed because with every throb the ground made, the more my leg moved and the shards of bone scraped against each other.

_Scrape scrape scrape, I can't escape._

Rumbling. What was that rumbling sound?

The house groaned and the frame splintered like my bones. Any second it would collapse and I'd be dead, like Troy's head.

The rumbling grew louder and the earth shook only not with large pulses but buzzing vibrations.

"What the—"

I didn't have time to think as the house came crashing in and I was slammed backwards by a solid wall of water.

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

"The dam!" Finnelas, the mentor from One, shouted. I had run in to the center after hearing Annie's scream, only to find her thrashing around on the floor. I watched now as a massive earthquake shook the very arena to the core and the damn, which had controlled the flow of the river, crumbled up and crashed. Water came spilling out, angrily taking out everything in its path.

It wasn't fire, it was water.

"Shit!" Finnelas swore, slamming his fists down on the table. I guess his tributes couldn't swim. I watched with smug satisfaction as Gerod, Samantha, and Wyatt all got swept up into the current. Wyatt got struck with debris and died instantly, the canon fire announcing his loss. Then the water came for Annie and she was taken up in its folds. With her leg, I couldn't imagine that this was going to end well for her.

_Annie, please, just hold on a little bit longer._

Her head popped above the surface and she let out a strangled scream, no doubt in unthinkable agony. Her arms flailed around, keeping her up as the arena filled until not even the treetops could be seen. Samantha started sinking, her wound too much to handle with the water, her heavy equipment, and a life out of the water.

"Gerod! Help!" she gargled, trying to claw her way over to him. But he lunged at her and pushed her head under water, ignoring her thrashing and swinging until the canon fired and her movements went silent.

"Enjoying the show, Mr. Odair?" Ivan asked from behind me. "I do hope your girl can swim."

I scowled and looked back up at the screen.

The other boy, a kid I didn't know, cried out and then sank below the surface, kicking and clawing but still sinking like a weight. The canon cracked for him, too.

_It's almost over Annie. You can do this. You've always done this._

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

I should just drown, it would hurt less than the pain I was in now. The water was carrying me in the folds of its skirt, but things inside of it were hitting me and causing more pain. And then I saw Him, the Monster.

_Swim away._

But what's the point? There's no point. I'm tired.

I lifted my hands in surrender, and then caught a glimpse of the string of beaten white shells around my wrist.

_Something to hold on to._

Finnick.

No, maybe I could try to live a little bit longer so I could see if his eyes were yellow too. I don't think they are, but I have to see.

The Monster was struggling. His head kept dipping below the water, I could see him. I swam a little closer to see if he was dying.

"You!" he growled, spotting me across the water.

"Swim swim swim, the Monster is dim," I sang, "He can't tread water so he's going to drown. He's going to sink, down down down."

Water snuck into my mouth and choked me. I thrashed and then screamed because my bones scraped together again. It hurt.

The Monster was close. He wanted my throat. But he wasn't swimming well. He'd sink to Hell. If I could use wings to stay up long enough maybe I could live.

"Water, water everywhere," I sang some more. Troy was right, singing was a good way to not be lonely. "But not a drop to drink. Without the salt, it's all your fault, and now you're going to sink."

"SHUT UP!" he roared, clawing for me. I swam away, Heart going _thud thud thud._

"You chopped off his head, now you're going to be dead!" I sang louder once the distance was safe. It was empowering, to sing louder than his roar.

"Not if I kill you first," he snarled. I swam away. I couldn't kick my one leg, but I could still paddle with my arms. I swam because I wanted to keep my head on my neck. I swam everywhere and anywhere, until I didn't hear the Monster anymore. I turned and I didn't see him. But then I felt his claws clamp around my ankle.

"No!" I shrieked, trying to kick him off. But I couldn't, my other leg didn't work.

_Sink sink sink, I'm taking a drink. Down down down, I'm going to drown._

Bang. The canon fired. Was I dead? No, not possible, I still had my head.

My ankle was free. I came to the surface in time to hear;

"—of the Seventieth Hunger Games, Annie Cresta!"

I blinked up as a ladder descended and I was frozen as it pulled me up into the metal cloud in the sky. As soon as I was over the edge, a pair of arms pulled me in against something warm.

"Annie! Annie it's okay. You won, you're alive, it's okay."

_Finnick._

Overwhelming grief and emotion poured over me and I sobbed, crashing in on myself. The pain was too much, the thoughts the sounds the voices in my head were too much and I crumbled.

"It's okay. Annie, I love you. It's going to be okay…"

I choked and reached my arms up to feel his face. And then I looked up, saw his eyes were green, and then let my arms fall away. The darkness swallowed me up before I could tell him about the fire and the monsters.


	28. Chapter 28

_Okay, question answering time for all you readers out there who happened to ask me questions:_

_1. Between Annick and Finnie I choose Finnie, Annick is my friend's French name in class._

_2. Who do I want to play Finnick in the movie? -Well, there's two. Jeremy Sumpter (played Peter Pan in 2003) would be brilliant. People don't usually think of him, but I think he'd do an amazing job. Or Alex Pettyfer because I think he's the most beautiful thing alive. Acting wise we havent seen his top work yet, but honestly the 'arrogant prostiute with a heart of gold' isn't as hard to portray as people think. Even when he sort of loses it, it's not hard to portray. Trust me, my family is all about acting. It's easy to do something so different from the norm because few people really know what it's like anyway._

_3. I'm a little confused with what's going on with this youtube idea that has been brought up, but I just want everyone to remember that this story belongs to moi and on fanfiction, and I really don't want it or parts of it reposted elsewhere, I appreciate that no one has yet :). I don't know if that's what was proposed, but I thought I'd throw that out there. Please don't repost any parts of this story in places._

_4. Am I going to write another book? -For fanfiction, probably not. But I do plan on writing a book to be published, so if I ever do happen to publish one I'll post a chapter on here and tell you guys about it :)_

_5. I don't like giving out my personal information, but to those of your who have been asking, I'm a lifeguard and I'm going into film and media arts. _

_6. And lastly, how many chapters left? Well, I don't know. I am not that organized and sometimes I just decide to end a chapter half way through an idea. I just want you guys to know I have NOOOO interest in rewriting the hunger games series from Finnick and Annie's POV, so when it gets to that point there's going to be a lot of skipping around and fast fowarding to the parts that only effect the storyline between Finnick and Annie. You all know what happens in those books anyway, so it's not neccissary for me to reconstruct it. Plus, it would just be really time consuming. Like I said, I don't know how many more chapters are left, but we're definatley 'over the hump'. _

_Thanks for your interest and questions! Also thanks for reading and all your really generous comments! Happy reading!_

**28**

**Mending Broken Glass**

Mags and I were sitting in the waiting room…waiting. It was two days since Annie won the Hunger Games. We still hadn't been allowed to see her.

"And what about…you know…her mind?"

The doctor who was always looming around her room pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and looked at me smartly. "Right now the most important thing is a long, dreamless sleep. We can't analyze her psychological state until she is ready to wake."

"But—"

"The mind is a fragile thing," he cut over me, "sometimes when it's broken, you can't always get the pieces to fit back together. She'll experience some post-traumatic stress—you know from your own experience—but over time the dreams and hallucinations should die down. Unfortunately there's no way to be sure she'll make a full recovery. Most likely not."

"So she's going to be like this…forever?"

"I said that the symptoms reduce."

I ran my fingers through my hair and then let it slide down my face and fall to my side. "What can I do…_we_ do to help?"

"Right now?" he gave me an exasperated look, "You can let me do my job. We'll keep you informed on her condition."

So that was that. When we pulled Annie out of the arena, they took her away the second we landed. Ivan was in the hallway talking into a tiny earpiece but shut up when I approached.

"You guys flooded the arena," I stated firmly. He raised his eyebrows at me.

"The arenas are designed long before the tributes are selected, the flood was nothing that I or President Snow instructed."

"Sure."

I started to walk away when his voice stopped me. "Haven't you been punished enough, Mr. Odair? Or are you a glutton for it?"

"Excuse me?"

"You could have let her die, peacefully maybe, in her right mind. But no, ever since you've been begging to sign up for a life that's not your own. Caring for someone who can't care for themselves. What's more you've been resigned to torture that poor girl for the rest of her life. It seems to me a little…barbaric."

"You're calling me barbaric?" What I wouldn't give to wipe that smug little grin off his face. "_You_ threw her into that blood pit and you're calling me the barbarian?"

"Yes." He smiled and waved me away, "Now go see to your crazy girl before she bludgers herself to death on her gurney."

So now, two days later, here I was. In the waiting room. Waiting.

"Finnick Odair?" a woman in a white coat called. I stood up and walked to her.

"That's me."

_As if she didn't already know._

She smiled and walked away, her heels clicking across the tile floor. I followed, hoping this had something to do with Annie. She led me into a white room with shelves full of supplies and closed the door. As soon as the lock clicked, my sensors went up.

"What's all this about?" I asked suspiciously. She smiled, pulling her thin red lips up into tight little dimples.

"I'm scheduled to give Ms. Cresta her psychoanalyses when she wakes up. If you want her to be well taken care of…well…first—"

"First _you_ want to be well taken care of."

Her smile deepened. There was no way I could make her prove she was telling the truth, but I didn't have a lot of options. Either I could try and argue my point, or stay and just get it over with. In my case, the latter was the faster route.

I didn't bother kissing her, that was too personal. I grabbed her coat angrily and shoved her against the wall. What was it she was conveying? Fear? I burned my eyes into hers, let her feel the hatred, and then tore off her jacket with one swift motion. The rest came naturally.

"Don't threaten me again," I told her in a low voice, once it was all over. I closed the door behind me and stormed out of the hospital wing. Mags would call me when Annie was awake.

I know it sounds sad and pathetic, but that night I actually held a pillow. I thought I'd have Annie back by this point…the loneliness was getting to me. I thought I was starting to go mad myself.

"Hey, Fin," Marina said sadly, sitting at the edge of my bed. I sat up in surprise.

"Marina…you wouldn't believe what's been happening here."

_Am I really looking for consolation from a dead girl? You know, she's in your head Finnick. You're just talking to yourself._

"I know, Fin, I know. It's rough."

I looked at her, how the moonlight caught her skin. "I miss you," I said suddenly. She looked up, her short wavy hair catching her nose and she smiled.

"No you don't. You're just lonely right now."

"Lonely, are you?"

Now that's a voice I haven't heard in a while.

"Celeste."

She appeared out of the shadows, more beautiful than I had even remembered. Often in the Capitol, if anyone had asked me about Celeste, they referred to her jokingly as the Black Widow, for the way she seduced Hector and then killed him. I guess that's why, as she came before me now, she had a red hourglass sewn to the shirt on her stomach.

"Isn't this loneliness sort of your fault?" she pressed, sitting next to Marina. I stared at her, now sure what to expect. And that's why I was surprised when she crawled up on the bed on all fours, coming for me. Her hair tumbled over her shoulders in a thick wavy sheet, her eyes glinting provocatively in the pale light. "Come on Fin," she whispered, "take _care_ of me."

"What…"

"It's what you do, isn't it?" she smiled and twisted her head to the side, "Prostitute."

The word sent chills down my spine. "Go away," I told her, a little too weakly. She shook her head and then in one sweep, dragged her tongue from my pelvis all the way up to the dip in my neck. I was frozen, waiting for her to grow fangs and suck the blood out of me.

"Come on," she whispered, her breath cooling the trail she left across my chest, "it's not like it means anything to you, anyway. Right, prostitute?"

"Go away," I said again, more firmly. She smiled and shook her head, undoing my pants without breaking eye contact. I tensed. Where was Marina? She disappeared…

"Oo, very impressive," she mocked, giving me a wink. I cringed and tried to ease away, but she stopped me with a hand to the chest. "Ah, ah, ahhh," she shook her head, "Sorry. You're mine, my little Golden Boy."

She straddled my lap and I closed my eyes, willing myself to dream of something, _anything _else. I got enough of this senseless kind of thing without it infiltrating my dreams too.

"Finnyboy."

I didn't open my eyes.

"Look at me!" she demanded. I refused.

"Look at me right now."

I sighed and slowly opened my eyes, expecting to see Celeste's face. But I was surprised to find Marina's blue eyes blinking back at me.

"Marina? But…"

She was clothed, and when I looked down so was I. So I guess my dream did change after all. "Sh," she cooed, stroking the side of my face, "It's okay. Everything is going to be okay, Finnick."

I fell into the crook of her neck and let her comfort me. What other choice did I have? "Annie might never be the same," I moaned, "I tried so hard not to lose her. But I did."

She laid me down and then laid down in front of me, keeping her hand rested against the side of my face. "Listen," she said in a soft voice, "even if the Annie you know isn't there in the day, you can always visit her at night. In your dreams."

I laughed because it was so ridiculous. "That's silly."

"Your Annie is in your mind. At night, you walk the pathways of your mind and have the adventures of your subconscious. Of course she will be there, you won't even have to ask. Don't worry about the future right now Finnick. Just be there for her. At least she's alive."

I nodded and then held her to me. I know it's strange to have a dream about lying down with someone and just trying to sleep, but I did, and it was comforting. For some reason the people who kept me the best company were those too fragile to save themselves.

O-o-o-o-o-o-o

Another day went by. And then finally, the doctor came in with his clipboard.

"Mr. Odair, she wants to see you."

I followed behind him, ringing my hands nervously. What should I expect? We walked down a short hallway that seemed to last forever and finally he stopped. "Right through here. Keep it simple. We'll be monitoring her vitals."

I nodded and then walked through the sliding doors. At first the room was so large and blindingly white that I couldn't even see straight. But after blinking my eyes clear, I found her bed and rushed over to her. I noticed her arms and legs were strapped down, poking out thinly from a flimsy, mint colored sheet.

"Annie," I smiled, leaning down to kiss her forehead. She tensed immediately and the machine behind her beeped a little faster for a moment. I pulled away, furrowing my eyebrows. She looked thin, haunted, and dazed. Could it be she doesn't know who I am?

"Annie, it's me, Finnick," I tried, holding out my hands. She blinked at me and then down at my hands.

"Troy's dead," she told me hollowly, like air passing through dry reeds, "he lost his head. The monster took it. There was a liar fire that licked my skin but it wasn't there it was a liar. I wanted to tell you that."

Guilt and pity washed over me. Could she really be this broken?

"Do you know where you are?" I asked, trying to find some simple things to ask her.

"In a bed." She looked at me suddenly as if she remembered something really important, "But I _was_ in a river," she whispered, "my blood made snakes to swim and slither."

"You're very good at rhyming," I told her calmly, patting her hand. She tried to pull it away but she was stopped by the restraints. I tried to hide my emotions and went for another question.

"Do you understand what's going on?"

"The game's the same every year. I won, it's gone, and now I'm here."

"Yes…and?"

"And now you're here too."

"Yes, I am."

"Why?"

"You asked for me, Annie."

She blinked and looked upset. What did I say?

"Anyone can ask for anything but that doesn't mean they get it. You came here when I asked, but that doesn't answer why."

I smiled sadly and fought the urge to touch her again. It's like she wasn't real and my fingers were trying to figure out if she was actually there in the physical. "Because I love you, Annie."

"And I love you too, right?"

That stung. I bit my lip and forced any strong emotions down again. "Well, you said you did."

"You didn't believe me?"

"No, I did…just…now…"

"Now."

I tightened my fist, "Yes. Now."

"Why did Troy kiss me?" she asked in a misty voice. Flames licked my insides and I had to take a moment before I could answer calmly.

"I suspect he probably loved you a little bit, too."

She blinked again and tears welled up in her eyes. "Oh, Annie, I'm sorry," I groaned, trying to wave away the tears without touching her, "I didn't mean to upset you, we shouldn't talk about him."

"Did you ever notice that I hum?" she choked, looking up at me with her watery eyes.

"What?"

"Did you ever notice that I sing when I do stuff, like cook?"

I didn't know how to answer her. I mean, I guess I did but I just never made a note of it. Why was it important?

"I guess…"

"Touch me, Finnick," she whimpered, looking at me desperately. "Put your hand on my face."

I reached out and gently rested my fingertips on her cheek. She was shaking and the machines were beeping. She started clutching my arms almost like she was choking and that was her throat. "Annie, are you okay?"

"Scream scream scream, it's all a bad dream," she said shakily, her voice hitting a strange pitch, "Hide hide hide, I can't go outside. The Monster is hunting me."

"Annie, there's no—"

"SCRAPE SCRAPE SCRAPE I CAN'T ESCAPE!" she screamed, thrashing and straining against the belts keeping her down. I tried to pin down her chest, but it just seemed to upset her more.

"WHERE'S TROY? POOR TROY IS DEAD, HIS BODY LEFT WITHOUT HIS HEAD!"

"Annie! You're okay! Come back!" I called to her, but she ignored me.

"I'M BROKEN GLASS, LOVE, JUST LET ME PASS."

I frowned and then was yanked away by a set of arms behind me, Annie still having a fit until suddenly she quieted and sank down into the covers, asleep. Morphling. The doors shut and I spun around.

"Are you happy?" I said angrily, "she's miserable. It's your fault."

The doctor pulled his lips to one side and scribbled something down on his notebook. "Well at least we know where she is mentally now. Odair, I guess now is as good a time as any to warn you that any…uhm…physical contact with Ms. Cresta in the future is probably not a chance at this point."

I pushed their hands off me and started to storm off. "All you people care about is sex," I growled, "I'm going to love Annie no matter what, so you'd better help her."

I slammed the doors shut after that.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

The Capitol was getting impatient. Annie needed to do her interview and recap of the games, as well as the crowning ceremony. It was finally decided that they would shoot her up with drugs so she could just float mindlessly on stage and at least be unemotional enough to not have a fit. I didn't like the idea, but I couldn't fight them on it. So after Mags and I got dressed, Garcia had us go down to the medical center to greet her. She was walking, her arms linked with an avox that was helping her move straight. She looked healthier, as far as her skin and stuff goes, she had no scars even from her broken leg. I wonder how they mended the bone so fast? I noticed a slight limp in her gate, so I guess it wasn't all perfect.

"Hi Annie," Mags said warmly, giving her a smile. She took her eyes from the ceiling and looked at Mags and then smiled too. I stood there silently, but I grinned for her in hopes she would return it. But she didn't even look at me before the stylists ran up and dragged her away.

"Come on honey," Mags took my hand, "let's go wait for her to get out."

We waited in chairs, and several times my stylist came up to fix my hair because I kept running my hand through it. Finally the door opened and she emerged dreamily.

"You look beautiful!" Mags exclaimed in a gentle voice. Annie's eyes swayed and then found her and she smiled. Her dress was made of frothy green and white fabric that billowed at the slightest movement. The top was fitted and twisted up the front to look like wings folded over her chest. Emeralds adorned her ears and hair and made her sparkle. The makeup added that glow she lost after the arena as well.

"Green's definitely your color," I said with a smile. She looked at me and her smile fell a little, but at least she didn't frown. We walked her to the part of stage where she would enter from. We ended up just hooking arms with her because the drugs made it hard for her to walk straight.

"Okay, Annie, it'll all be over soon and then you can go home. You're going to be just fine out there," I told her firmly, looking into her eyes. She was staring at a point above me, then beside me, and then finally looked directly at me.

"Okay." Her voice was barely more than a hushed whisper. We left to take our seats and she was raised onto the stage. The audience clapped and cheered as she stood there, still as a stone, on stage. Caesar, in all his good humor, made a show about being lucky enough to be the one to fetch her. I was thankful he could cover so well, because he was going to have to. Once he'd walked her up the set and let her sit down on the chair, the show began.

"You look lovely tonight," Caesar told her. She was wringing her wrists in anxiety and looked at him a touch out of focus.

"Thank you." Well, at least there was microphones.

Suddenly the recap began and my heart sank. How could I have forgotten that they were going to recap the games, there, on stage in front of Annie. I exchanged a look with Mags and then back down the stage to Annie.

The drugs probably were keeping her from feeling any rash emotions because she didn't start screaming or running around. But at some point between the Cornucopia and Troy's beheading—which I'll admit was horrific—she started crying. Silently, but still crying. The fact that it made no sound made it more heartbreaking. I was thankful they skipped the parts she was by herself singing. It ended with Gerod almost drowning her but then dying, declaring her the winner while she was still underwater. When the focus was turned back onto the stage, Annie's tears had collected on her hands and continued to fall in a steady stream. Caesar decided it was best then not to ask questions and just helped her stand so that Snow could come and crown her. I didn't relish the idea of her ever touching her, but at least it meant it was over.

"Congratulations on your victory, Miss Annie Cresta," he said earnestly, kissing her hand. Everyone clapped and cheered and she was taken off stage immediately. I rushed down through the crowd to find her. She hadn't stopped crying yet.

"You did a top notch job Annie," Garcia chirped, leading her up through the base of the stage. She followed silently behind, dropping tears as she went. If anyone in the audience had known the games were rigged to save her, they didn't show it. They just appreciated her endearing nature, pitied her mental state, and remarked how they'd wished for a bloodier ending.

Finally we stopped and the stylists started to take her away to get changed, when she pulled her hands away. "I want him to come," she whispered, pointing to me. Finally, I was getting some notice. They looked confused but I waved them on, following behind. When we got to the changing room, they carefully removed her dress and undid the gems in her hair. I looked at the floor even though I'd basically seen it before just out of respect. Plus, we weren't supposed to be in love here, not in front of the Capitolists. Once she'd been slipped into a thin white dress, I looked up to find her staring at me, still crying. The team wanted so badly to wash her face, but they weren't sure if they should even touch her.

"Give us a minute," I told them, throwing my most charming smile. They looked at one another like birds and then scampered out, closing the door with a reluctant _click._

"Annie, are you okay?" I asked kindly, standing up so I could be closer to her. She followed me with her teary eyes and squeezed her hands together.

"I don't like this," she said in her small voice.

"You don't like what?"

She looked around for a second and then leaned in a little, "I'm trapped inside my head. What's in my head can't get out of my lips. It's like a cork in my mouth."

I stared at her, "I understand. It's just the drugs Annie, they'll wear off."

She moved her eyes to my lips, and then my chest. She reached out with her thin white arm and placed her fingertips over my heart.

"Thud thud thud," she whispered, almost inaudibly. She took her hand away then and looked back to my eyes. "I'm hurting you," she said miserably. It was only then did I catch how poorly I'd been hiding my emotions this time.

"No, Annie, it's okay…"

"I'm hurting you every time you see me," she whimpered, more tears flowing down her face. I wrapped my arms around her and held her there, feeling that _whoosh_ of relief that came with finally doing something you've been waiting a long time to do. She nuzzled down into the crook of my neck and said, "I want to go home."

"Soon, Annie, soon."


	29. Chapter 29

_Bella: It's okay! I just wasn't sure what was going on. No worries. :)_

_Happy reading, guys!_

**29**

**My Ophelia**

The interview was over and we could finally go home. The doctors scheduled Annie to meet with a therapist about twice a week until her symptoms became more manageable, also because she refused medication. I was starting to get the feel for her mood swings and crazy babble. At good times she'd just laugh in the wrong places, cover her ears if something upset her, and stay for the most part silent. When it was bad she would collapse, flail, hug herself, scream, sing, and say things that only made sense if you dissected the meaning behind them. Those times were hard for me to comprehend a life with, the other parts were unusual, but over time I could get used to them. Especially if it meant I didn't lose her.

We sat on the train, rocking slightly with the vibrations while Mags played some slow music on the stereo. Annie mostly refused to eat anything with meat, unless it was fish. If you put a steak in front of her she started freaking out and saying something about flesh and muscle and blood snakes. After lunch she went into her room and started taking a shower that lasted for probably three hours. Garcia filed her names and muttered that there wouldn't be enough water left on the train for the rest of us. I bit my lip to keep myself from telling her to shut up.

"Have you ever heard of Shakespeare?" Mags asked me suddenly.

"Erm…no, I don't think so."

"Ah, I guess you wouldn't. His works were banned after the Capitol took power—for the greater good, of course," she added with a certain bite when Garcia's head perked up, "Only the oldest people have heard of him, like me."

"Okay…so what about him?" I asked, folding my arms.

"Well, he had this character in one of his stories called Ophelia. It's just that she reminds me of Annie a lot."

_Ophelia...what a broken name._

Later that night I went in to Annie's room to pull her out for dinner to find her curled up in the corner of her room with her head between her legs.

"Hey Annie," I said lightly, sitting down in front of her. It unnerved me, how dead she looked. "What are you doing?"

"Hiding," she whispered, lifting her head a little, but her eyes were focused down on something beyond the floor.

I placed a hand on her knee and gently said, "Hiding? From what?"

"The monster," she said in a shaky, hushed voice. Of course, how silly of me.

"There's no monster Annie."

"She was in my room. She opened her mouth and there was no tongue. She cut her tongue out because she likes to swallow her prey whole."

I sighed, "Annie, that's not a monster, she's an avox. She's your servant here, she won't hurt you."

"My servant?" she asked timidly. I smiled and touched her cheek lightly. She looked upset. "If I have a servant, than I'm a monster."

"She's the Capitol's servant, they instructed her to care for you. That's better than caring for a citizen, don't you think?"

She tucked her head back in between her knees and didn't answer me. "Besides," I added with a smile, "You're too pretty to be a monster. Come eat dinner when you're ready."

I got up to leave when she reached out and grabbed my hand, lightly though as if she wasn't sure if she could touch me.

"Please don't leave me," she whispered. Some warmth dripped into my heart and I said, "Come _with_ me then."

She stayed there on the floor, silently for a moment, and then got up slowly. I smiled and took her hand more firmly and led her out into the light of the dining room. To their best graces no one made a big deal out of it and just allowed her to join the group seamlessly. I knew now that she couldn't handle meat, so I made sure to put some fish on her plate before anyone could offer something else. I started eating when, just like before the arena, Annie's hand slipped under the table and gently tangled her fingers in mine. Our private connection in a public room. For a moment it was just like having the real Annie back.

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

After lunch on the train I finally excused myself to go take a shower. I just wanted some alone time, being around people was exhausting. Especially Finnick. I had no idea how to handle myself around him because half the time I _couldn't _handle myself. I didn't want to disappoint him…or lose him.

The water ran and I stepped in even though it was freezing.

_The river's on your back, it's coming for your blood._

I tugged my hand through the knots in my hair, shivering as some of the dead ends snapped. I opted to just sit on the floor of the shower and watch the water drain from my skin and into the drain below. I wondered where the water goes, does it go to the ocean? My ocean? No, not possible. It stays on the train.

_Okay Annie, get it together. _

It was the most frustrating thing I had ever experienced. I would know what I wanted to say or convey or even _think,_ but my mind and mouth wouldn't _let_ me. Like if I was hungry, I wanted to think 'I'm hungry.' But instead my mind would warp it and all I couldn't think about how hunger was weakness, wanting to steal energy and blood from one thing to preserve myself. If I wanted to be strong, I had to find my own energy. I hated myself for every bite I took, but a little silent part in me knew I had to and it was okay. But like I said, the parts I couldn't control snuffed out any parts of me I could. My greatest ally, this seed of reality buried inside the swirling chaos. Like trying to see a lantern through the thickest fogs that you know is there but cannot see.

I stared at the bracelet on my wrist, the shells sometimes leaving indents in my skin if I laid on it by accident. These shells were nice though, even if they were trying to bite my skin. I made them for Finnick, and then he gave them to me. So it was okay if they wanted to bite.

_Finnick._

I was never going to be able to redeem myself with him.

Maybe when I got home, I could get a boat and sail away to somewhere where I couldn't hurt anyone. If there wasn't a peacekeeper on board, if it was small enough to avoid their spies on the ocean, maybe I could make it out to whatever was beyond the ocean. I could hurt anyone out there.

_Out on the sea it's only me_

_I could sail away after the day _

_Alone is sad, but hurting is bad_

_I'm a Monster if I stay._

I let my involuntary thoughts swallow me and dozed off for a while with the water still tracing lines down my face. Water snakes, on my skin, they sort of tickled. When my eyes opened again I saw how wrinkly my fingers were.

_I'm old. I've been asleep for fifty years and now I'm old._

_No, silly, it's the water. It steals the youngness from your skin, but only for a little while._

_Why?_

_It gives it to someone else, but it's okay._

I didn't shut off the water but I walked straight out. When I entered my room I screamed when suddenly there was someone there, touching my things. Her mouth was open when she turned in surprise and I saw she had no tongue. The stub of it was just sitting in her mouth like a rotten, hacked up heart caged by her teeth.

"MONSTER!" I shrieked, chucking a nearby shoe at her. She cringed and stalked away into the shadows as monsters usually do. "WHERE'S YOUR WINGS, MONSTER?"

She didn't answer. Of course she didn't. She didn't have a tongue.

_Freak._

I wanted to hide away in the shadows again. But I didn't like being naked, it made me feel like the Monster could smell my skin better. So I found a thin gown in the drawer and pulled it over my head, like a snake shedding its skin back on. Then I crawled into the corner and pulled my legs up to my chin, tucking my head inside the wrap of my body. Maybe then she wouldn't be able to hear my breathing. I could hide within my own body…

_Black black black the Monster's coming back_

_She's going to eat your eyes_

_Keep your skin for a prize_

"Hey Annie." It was Finnick, he came into the room and sat down in front of me. "What are you doing?"

"Hiding," I answered simply. And he was blowing it. I felt the warmth of his hand cover my knee and send electricity I didn't understand down my legs and crackling into the rest of my limbs. Like it was trying to restart my heart…only couldn't.

"Hiding? From what?"

_Stupid Finnick I'm sure you've seen her, that dragon infests all the rooms I'm sure of it._

_Maybe Finnick loves her._

"The Monster."

"There's no monster Annie. "

"She was in my room. She opened her mouth and there was no tongue. She cut her tongue out because she likes to swallow her prey whole." Why didn't he understand this? Why was I even saying it? The gleam of logic inside of me was trying to wriggle out and tell my mouth to stop forming such nonsense, but the fog strangled it and snuffed out it's light.

He sighed, "Annie, that's not a monster, she's an avox. She's your servant here, she won't hurt you."

_Avox…I remember the avox. She has pretty hair._

"My servant?" I repeated. A sick feeling twisted in my stomach. I captured the dragon monster girl and made her my slave? I barely felt Finnick's touch on my cheek when I said, "If I have a servant, than I'm a monster."

He was quick to answer. "She's the Capitol's servant, they instructed her to care for you. That's better than caring for a citizen, don't you think?"

_No._

_I'd rather she was dead than a slave._

I hid my head back inside the darkness so I could try and work this out alone, but Finnick's voice cut into the shade. "Besides, you're too pretty to be a monster."

_Liar. I'm made of broken glass, that's not beautiful, just let me pass. Pass into the fire._

"Come eat dinner when you're ready."

He was leaving. I could feel the air changing as he moved.

_Let him go. Never touch him again. Never speak to him again. It's for the best…for him._

_You can't live without him. Don't let him go. _

_I should let him go._

_But don't._

I reached out suddenly and closed my fingers gingerly over his hand.

_You're so weak._

_Shut up, for once._

"Please don't leave me," I whispered. I kept my eyes trained away from his face, afraid of what I'd find there.

"Come _with_ me then."

_What choice do I have?_

_Stay here. Annie, let him go. You're killing him._

_If you go, you're the Monster._

_No…Finnick loves me. He said so._

_He was just saying that so you'd stop screaming._

_Lies, always lying._

_He's waiting for you._

I made my legs straighten up, though not without a lot of effort, and followed stiffly behind him. It felt better to walk near Finnick, it made me feel normal. I didn't like the light, but Finnick was in the light, so I went anyway. I didn't even fight when he put food on my plate. He was strong, strong as a rock, and he ate. So I could too…right?

_This is ridiculous._

Finally, that gleam of the old me, then one who made sense, had found it's voice; if only for a short while. I could feel my conscious drip with relief at hearing her voice.

_He loves you, you love him. There's no point in making both of you miserable. You know that even if you push him away, the guilt of what happened to you is going to prevent him from ever finding anyone else. Just try to be happy for once in your damn life._

Before her light flickered out, Annie reached her hand out and took Finnick's under the table, just like before the arena. Then she slipped away again into darkness, but Finnick's strength kept my hand anchored in place. My mind tossed, churned, and reeled like a tempest, but Finnick kept me in place. Even if I was lost.

After dinner I went back to my room and laid in bed, staring at the ceiling. I thought about monsters, the dark, blood, and Troy. How his lips felt on my lips. How the stump of his neck looked after it lost its head. How his head looked separated from his body, swinging from a hand by his hair in my face. The feel of his blood dripped from his head and onto my lap and arms.

I would never forget that, so there was no point in trying to suppress it.

"Hi Annie," Troy said. He was standing at the foot of my bed, looking at me. I crawled backwards and glared at his throat. An angry red line ran around it, leaking little snakes of blood. And his hands, his hand were matted up in his hair, keeping his head in place.

"Hi Troy," I whispered back with my voice catching in the middle. He smiled.

"Something wrong?"

"You're dead," I told him, but more for myself. I sang, "Where is Troy, poor Troy is dead, his body left without his head."

"Yes, I did lose my head. Funny though, so did you."

I looked down and saw blood leaking from my neck. I gasped and clutched my hands up over my throat. "No!" I choked, feeling the blood rising in my windpipe, "I didn't lose my head, you did!"

"Not like _that,_ silly."

I let go of my throat, but the blood remained. He was right, after all.

"I'm pushing up daisies Annie," he said with a sad smile, limping closer to me, "But I wish they were roses."

I backed up a little more, pressing my back into the headboard. "What do you want Troy?"

He stopped and frowned. I stared at the hand that was still working to keep his head in place. What would happen if he let go? "You don't miss me?"

Guilt washed over me. "I do, I do miss you. But you're dead. You shouldn't be here."

"You brought me here," he said a little angrily, "You think about me all the time. This is _your_ mind, Annie." I stared at him silently, afraid that if I spoke he'd get angry again. "In truth," he continued more calmly, "I was really hoping for that kiss."

Tears sprung into my eyes. "You want a kiss?" I whimpered. I think he would've nodded, but then his head would've fallen off. His blood snakes were staining his shirt and dripping onto the floor. I stared at it fearfully and then looked up to find him much, much closer.

"How about it?" he said flatly, looking into my eyes. Every fiber inside of me screamed in terror, but I just nodded slightly. His arm lifted his head from its stump on his neck, letting the blood flow more fluidly down his body. His eyes blinked back at me from his separated head. I blinked back and then pressed my lips against his, holding both sides of his face to keep it from swaying. It wasn't like kissing Finnick, but it was still nice. But it made me sad too, and horrified.

"Thanks," he whispered, placing his head back on his neck with a wet _slap._ I cringed and tried to claw away the dizzy colors swirling before my eyes. My eyes rolled back and then focused on the bouquet of daisies Troy was holding out. I looked up at him and he shrugged with a solemn face. "Again," he sighed, "I wish they were roses."

He disappeared after that and I awoke to the sensation of being pinned down. The Monster…avox…was standing above me, pinning down my shoulders. I stared up at her with wide eyes.

"Are you going to kill me?" I asked, almost hopefully. She shook her head and then released me. From the way the blankets were tangled around me, I was probably having a fit in my sleep and she was just trying to keep me still. Guilt washed over me again because I called her a monster and she probably believed me.

"You have pretty hair," I told her, reaching out and feeling the silky ends of it with my fingers. She looked ready to cry and nodded, patting my cheek sympathetically. Did she really feel bad for me? The slave to the Capitol and the slave to her mind. We could be twins. "I'm sorry for calling you a monster."

She shook her head and put a finger over my lips, as if to quiet me. Then she pointed to the warm cup of liquid with a sweet smell she had put on my nightstand and then left the room with quick, silent steps. No, she wasn't a monster, she was a ghost. A ghost of someone probably quite wonderful and loud now soundless and missing.

I sipped the liquid, relished the sweet comforting taste of the herbs and honey. And then sleep started creeping back into the corners of my mind.

_No, I'm not being trapped here alone again._

I had kissed Troy, but I really just wanted to be with Finnick. So I slipped out of bed and slinked across the floor, out into the hall until I found his room. I opened the door and then saw Garcia sleeping with a creamy green slime on her face and her hair up in a towel, her breathe catching her in nasal passages with a mighty snore.

_Now _that's_ a monster._

I backed out of the room and suppressed a giggle. I'm glad some things could still be funny. It made me feel a little bit lighter. I tried the next room and was rewarded with Finnick's face flopped against a pillow, his mouth opened slightly. He was so beautiful. I didn't deserve him. And yet…I could have him.

I slowly slipped into the sheets, trying not to rouse him. But with the movement he moaned and rolled over, pulling most of the blankets with him. I tugged what was left over my shoulder and sighed with the relief of having his warm body asleep beside me.

I thought I'd succeeded and was about to sleep, but I was wrong. "Annie?" he said groggily, twisting around. I didn't see if because I was facing away, but I felt it. Suddenly I felt sort of self-conscious, maybe he didn't want me there. It was stupid to assume he did.

"Can I stay here tonight?" I asked timidly, fighting the urge to curl up into a ball. I felt his hands on my shoulder and the turned me so that my back was against the mattress and my face was up towards the ceiling. I found his eyes which looked green even in the heavy blue and silver light from the train windows. He seemed to be searching for something.

"Of course you can," he said, almost like he was hurt I asked. Hurting him, I could never stop hurting him.

"Can I ask you a question?" I said suddenly, the gleam of Annie coming through without warning. He's eyes gleamed back at me and he nodded.

"Ask me anything, Annie."

"Are you trying to fix me?"

He blinked, "I don't understand what you mean by that."

"We both know I'm broken," I pressed, touching the ends of his hair, "I just had a dream where a boy took off his own head and kissed me. I'm not…like I used to be. I just wanted to know if you're trying to fix me so that I could be the old Annie I was."

He bit his lip and then said, genuinely, "No. I mean, I'm not trying to make you someone you're not. People change with their experiences…but I am trying to help you. I don't want you to be in so much pain all the time."

I smiled humorlessly, "Good answer."

I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled myself up against him so I could burry my face into the crook of his neck. He seemed shocked for a second and then gave in to the hug, falling to his side and tightening his grip against me. He was so warm, I didn't realize how much I missed how warm and solid he was.

"I have a question too," he whispered, still holding on to me, "But you don't have to answer it."

He paused. "What is it?" I asked.

"I shouldn't ask it…never mind."

I pulled away and looked at him. "Please ask it."

_I don't know how much longer I have Annie here Fin, so get your questions out now._

"Do you still love me? Or can even fathom…loving me?"

He seemed miserable and self-conscious when he said it, and I'll admit it shocked me. Could I even answer this question?

_Do I still love Finnick? Or do I just need him?_

"Annie…I told you, it was a dumb thing to ask…"

"No," I silenced him, "you should ask it. I don't know how to word it, but can I just answer it with telling you honestly that the second you leave is the second I'm dead? Even if not physically. Not that you have to stay…I'd understand if you left but…"

"I'm not going anywhere, Annie."

"It's selfish of me, but I can't let you go. I've been trying…but I can't . So if anyone's going to leave, it's going to have to be you."

"Annie," he said again, looking straight at me, "I. Am. Not. Going. Anywhere."

"Good." What else could I say?

"So what now?" he asked.

I thought for a second and then slid forward and tucked my head under his chin, my hands folding against his chest.

_Thud thud thud._

"Let's just see how you do against nightmares," I said with some humor. I felt him smile and his arms wrapped around me again.

"I'm here if you need me," he responded. What a silly thing to say.

_I'm always going to need you._


	30. Chapter 30

**30**

**To Have and to Hold**

"Hold my hand," I told Annie before the doors of the train opened. She reached out despondently and laced her fingers through mine. Mags appeared on the other side of her and took her hand as well. Garcia clapped behind us and gave a tittery laugh.

"Oh, this is so exciting. I love the homecoming."

Personally, I was just hoping I'd survive it. Maybe Annie being alive would stop Pearl from ripping my throat out, but I couldn't guarantee anything if she saw the state her sister was in. "Here we go," I breathed as the doors slid open. The crowd erupted in applause, but now nearly as boisterous as I remembered mine being. It's possible that I had glorified the moment.

It's also very possible they all pitied her so much they were afraid to clap.

"Scream scream scream, this is all a bad dream," Annie sang quietly to herself. Mags and I exchanged a look before gently tugging her out into the light. Peacekeepers split the crowd to let us through and I found myself pulling the front, trying to protect her from all the staring faces and judging eyes. From what I could see she was staring down at the ground with her hair over her face.

We crossed the cobblestone until we were stopped by a high-pitched squeal and Echo's delighted face leaping from the crowd.

"Annie!" she hollered, running up to us. A few people refused to budge so she struggled a minute to reach us, but when she did she had her arms fastened around Annie so tightly I was afraid she might lose blood flow. Mags and I tried to figure out what her expression was, but she barely had one. Her arms stayed at her sides as she stared at the top of Echo's head like it was a foreign object.

_Better than a meltdown._

Then Stephen came through the crowd with a winning but measured smile, carrying little Kai in his left arm. "Annie," he said exclaimed warmly, wrapping his right arm around her back and giving it a gentle squeeze. At least he was more in control of himself…but where was Pearl?

"It's good to see you again, Stephen," I smiled, shaking his hand. He grinned and slapped me on the back, but his expression told me there was a lot of questions he wanted an answer to.

"Good to see you too."

Annie was staring at a point no one could see, and Echo was staring up at her like she was trying to read a book off her forehead. I took her space-out as an opportunity to pull Stephen into the wave of the crowd. "Where's Pearl?" I asked under my breath. Stephen pursed his lips and sighed.

"At the house, she's not allowed in the square for another month yet."

Well, that's news. "Why not?"

He sighed again and scratched his head. "She…she attacked a peacekeeper. You know how her temper gets. When. Annie went…well…when she had her big breakdown, a peacekeeper made some comment about how he'd still…okay, Finnick, it's vulgar and you don't want to hear it. All you have to know is that Pearl was in the square at the time, watching the screen, and she heard it. So she fought him tooth and nail." He chuckled with almost a fond look in his eye. "Poor bloke didn't know what was coming to him."

_Give me his name, I'll finish the job._

"I thought the penalty for that is death…"

_Oh no. Pearl's been sentenced to death upon Annie's arrival._

It's happened before. Someone goes out on a large fishing trip to find their loved one in the stocks on their homecoming day for some sort of crime. But Pearl? With Kai just barely opening his eyes? And Annie barely functional now needing her more than ever? They couldn't sink that low…

"I know. But she's a new mother," Stephen said with a grimace, "So they just flogged her. Publically."

Better than the death penalty, but I still felt my heart lurch when I heard it. The image of powerful, gorgeous Pearl strapped to a post and beaten into submission was a little too hard to swallow. We needed her strength.

"Is she okay?"

"Better," he frowned, "Sore, but better. She's still a little powerhouse. The only reason she's not here now is because she doesn't want them to turn on Kai." I nodded, but then read something in his expression again that said this wasn't the entire truth. This guy was like an open book right on his face. "Let's get Annie home," he said quickly, pulling me back into the space where she, Mags, and Echo stood.

"Come on," I said, taking her hand again, "let's go."

We walked through the dispersing, muttering crowd through the square and to the sandy pathways. The second our feet hit sand, Annie dropped to the ground. I spun around, alarmed, to find her digging her hands into the sand and staring at it with her mouth slightly agape.

"Annie, are you alright?"

She didn't answer, but pulled herself further up where the sand was deeper and sunk her hands in. She gave one of her awkwardly placed laughs that made us all uncomfortable and then looked up at no particular person or thing and said, "I never thought I'd see this again." Tears welled up in her eyes and suddenly she was stumbling to her feet and racing forward, making a beeline for the beach. Her run was only slightly hobbled by the limp left in her leg.

"I'm surprised she can even walk," Stephen said with some optimism. We followed a safe distance behind her until she stopped at a beach.

"SHELLS!" she exclaimed, grabbing a fistful of them and whipping them into the air like little white stars. Echo laughed and ran up to join her, scooping up some of the shells too, when Annie's smile dropped and she lunged for Echo, snatching them from her hands.

"Mine!" she growled, clutching her stolen goods to her chest. With her free hand she pushed Echo's shoulder, "You little monster, stealing my _things."_

"Annie—" I started, not sure whether to intervene. Echo's face was heart wrenching.

"Uh oh," Stephen agreed, crossing his arms.

"Annie, it's Echo. I'm your sister…I'm not a monster…"

Annie glared at her and threw the shells down on the beach. "Then why did you let me go then, monster?" she said accusingly, "You could have saved me but you didn't. Worried about your scaly little dragon head, were you?" The bitterness in Annie's voice stung, and I had to wonder why I never considered this before. That maybe it would have hurt Annie that Echo hadn't tried to volunteer for her.

"But…"

"I don't want to hear your snarl, little beast." Annie kicked the sand and started storming away, leaving Echo behind in tears. Stephen walked forward and put an arm around her shoulder comfortingly and kissed the top of her head, muttering something comforting. Mags waved me on to go after Annie, so I jogged up to her, trying to measure out which emotions to use.

"Go away," Annie snapped before I said a word, "I don't want to hear it."

"Annie, she's your sister. She's _missed _you. She's happy you're home."

"Why did she let me go then?" Annie choked, more tears springing to her eyes, "Why did everyone just stand there and let me go?"

I blinked at her, not entirely sure what to say. "It's the same every year, it's nothing personal. Their loved ones stop them from sacrificing themselves."

Annie clenched her fists and dug the heels of her palms into her eyes, screaming in frustration. I stood there with my hands fluttering awkwardly, just trying to make sense of everything. Suddenly Annie stripped down from her pretty little dress they designed for her to come home in until she stood there glaringly naked. I blinked again and scanned the perimeter, catching quite a few onlookers. I don't know what attracted them though, Annie, or her screaming.

"What are you doing?" I whispered, picking up her dress and shaking out the sand, "Would you please put your clothes back on?" No, nudity wasn't a huge deal here. It didn't mean I liked it when she laid it all out there for those men to stare at. She was even more vulnerable now, even more breakable than before. The damage they could do for just thinking she was beautiful…  
>"Swimming," she said simply, turning on her heels and walking straight into the water. When the waves crashed up over her ankles, she froze for a moment, tilted her head back, and let out a sigh of relief. Then she took off, diving straight into the next wave and disappearing for one nerve-wrecking moment, then popping back up further out. I was watching her carefully when I felt something slam into my head.<p>

"Hey!" I gasped, turning around with my hands ready to swing. Do people really keep forgetting how capable of a killer I am? But that's when I saw a furious, battered Pearl with a tree branch in her hand.

"Pearl, relax for a second!" Stephen called from across the beach, but he couldn't intervene, he had Kai and Echo, both of whom were crying. I swallowed and backed up as she stalked towards me.

"What did you _do,_" she hissed, throwing the branch into the sand with surprising force. A colorful pattern of bruises ran from the right side of her face all the way down to her calves and hands, but it didn't make her look weaker, if anything it made her look more intimidating.

"Pearl I couldn't let her die…"

"YOU TORTURED HER!" she screeched, whipping her hand across my chest. I felt the sting left behind by her fingers. "I _told_ you how fragile she is!"

"But…"

Is it weird that if felt good for someone to finally punish me over this?

"Do you know what I had to _listen to while you were out gallivanting with the whores in the Capitol?"_ she snarled dangerously, a certain insane fire hitting her eyes. If Pearl snapped like Annie, she wouldn't cry and make up songs. She would probably murder someone. Slowly.

"It wasn't the pity that got to me the most," she pressed, still forcing me backwards, "No, it was the comments on her body. They all just want to take advantage of her. 'She can't even fight back anymore, so why the hell not?' THAT'S what they'd say about her."

"I'm not going to let anyone touch her…"

"SHE DOESN'T EVEN WANT TO _BE_ TOUCHED. THANKS TO YOU SHE'S TERRIFIED OF EVERTHING!" She lunged forward and knocked me down, landing her fists on whatever part of me they fell. I didn't fight back, I just closed my eyes and waited for her to get it out of her system. She actually got some good hits in here before she stopped, muttering curses and cradling her hand.

"You through?" I asked, opening my eyes. She scowled and landed one final blow across my eye before pulling herself up on her bruised knees and searching the scene.

"Where is she?" she demanded, squinting into the distance. I rubbed my eye to reduce the sting and pointed at the water.

"She's swimming?" she asked incredulously, "It's FREEZING out there. You are determined to mutilate her." She continued muttering to herself as she stomped into the water and waded in until it was hitting her hips.

"Annie!" she called, cupping her hands over her mouth, "Come back!"

Annie's head was just a little brown dot on the ocean, but I think she turned at the sound of Pearl's voice. "Are you alright?" Stephen asked with a grimace, pulling me up to my feet.

"Fine," I sighed, brushing the sand off of me. Kai giggled in delight and tugged on a piece of my hair that had some dried up kelp tangled in it. Echo was sniffling bitterly behind him with her arms crossed over her chest the way I've seen Annie do so many times. "She'll come around," I told her, "Just give it a few days. She's unstable."

We looked back to see Annie swimming closer, as Pearl waved her arms and started to wade deeper. When her face became visible, it was clear she was delighted. Pearl wrapped her arms around her and Annie responded whole-heartedly, ignoring the waves crashing into them. Pearl grabbed her hand and pulled her to shore, muttering something about catching a cold and why the hell she'd throw her dress away. I held it out in surrender, allowing Pearl to expend a pointed glare at me for having it in the first place.

"It wasn't _my_ idea," I muttered. When she was back in the dress, Annie was shivery but happy, staring at Pearl like she was some kind of miracle. We walked home in a clump, Mags breaking off at some point and heading to her own house. There was an awkward moment when we weren't sure if Annie should stay with her family, or with me.

"She's already been with you for a while," Pearl said, "We should get some time with her."

"I agree," I tried to reason, "but it's up to—"

"I want to stay with Pearl tonight," Annie cut over me, "I don't want everyone to fight."

"Yeah, she rhymes a lot now…"

Pearl stared at her sister and then gave me a smug grin. "Good choice, Annie."

Was I being replaced?

They walked inside, Stephen giving me an apologetic pat on the shoulder before following her, tugging Kai's pudgy fingers out of his hair.

The walk home was a lonely one, but it was soothing. I never realized how much I needed this alone time to think and clear my head until I got it.

_Is this really how I want to spend my life? Measuring my every move? Dodging her sister? Never able to express how I feel without worrying about triggering some sort of terrible reaction?_

I imagined life without Annie. On my own in my massive house, never having to care about anyone. Maybe I'd invite Lacy or Estelle to come and stay with me a while. I probably wouldn't do a lot of cooking, in fact, I'd probably hire a chef to come and do it for me. What did I care? Who did I have to prove myself to?

So there it was. If Annie was gone, I'd risk losing a good portion of my self-worth. She kept me accountable, made me human. She gave me a purpose too; to defend her, to protect her. That seemed pretty important to me.

I was on the doorstep when I heard the phone ringing inside. I jogged to get there in time and was surprised to hear Stephen on the other end. "Hey Finnick, listen, I'm sorry to do this to you, but could you come back?"

My heart sank a little. "Is everything okay?"

"She fell asleep…but she just started screaming. We can't get her to stop."

Sure enough I heard the pixilated sound of Annie's scream ripping in the background and the unintelligible things Echo and Pearl were saying back. "I'll be there in a few," I sighed, hanging up the phone. I couldn't live without Annie, but I hoped to the heavens that this wouldn't last forever.

I jogged back and didn't bother knocking, letting myself in through the front door to find a very frazzled Stephen juggling a whining baby. Annie was upstairs from the sound of it.

"Go on up," Stephen said curtly, nodding his head towards the steps. I sprinted up the stairs and walked into her bedroom to find Annie backed into a corner with the sheets still tangled around her ankles, screaming at something no one could see.

"She's been at it for an hour," Echo told me with a frown. Pearl's face was red but she was—to her good graces—keeping a level head.

"Sorry it took me so long," I told her before approaching Annie cautiously. She started laughing with a certain manic look in eye which then segwayed into tears and she began to cry.

"What's wrong, Annie?" I asked in a level voice.

"THEY CUT OFF HIS HEAD!" she screamed miserably, holding her palms out to me. I took this as an opportunity to pull her against my chest and pinned her there, keeping my grip as she struggled and kicked until she gave up and sagged into me. The whole time I kept whispering to her that it was alright, it was over, that she was okay, and that she had to accept it. I felt her tears soaking into the fabric of my shirt and sighed, stroking her hair. I reminded myself who she was and why I was here by smelling the salt of her hair and brushing her skin with my lips. She was still my Annie, just damaged.

"Please don't leave," she whispered shakily, secretly gripping the end of my shirt with her quaking fingers. "The worst part about being crazy is I have the most vivid dreams…I can't it off on my own. I need you."

Pearl let out a breath, but pasted on a smile and kissed Annie goodnight. Echo stood awkwardly for a moment, and then left. I took out the lights and then sank into the bed, wrapping my arms protectively around her.

_I need you._

So there I had it. She needed me. And that's exactly what I needed.

A few days had passed since Annie's arrival home. I slept with her every night to help keep the nightmares at bay. We stayed at her house though, so she could be close to her family. But one morning I woke up to find she was gone.

"Annie?"

I pulled on my shirt and walked out the of the house, trying to make sense out of where she might have gone. The answer seemed obvious if I really thought about it. Her beach.

I took the usual path there and was disappointed when I didn't see her there, collecting shells. But then I looked up at the small drop that hung over the water. She stood on top of it like a pillar of salt, her white dress catching the salty breeze whipping from the sea. The sunrise was casting a pale orange and pink light on her. She was watching it intently, her eyes barely squinting at the sun's harsh light.

I smiled and took the round-about way, cutting some roses from a bush outside one of the nicer homes and then walking up behind her.

"Hey Annie," I said gently. "I brought you something."

She turned around slowly, her eyes focusing at my face.

"What?"

I held out the flowers and grinned, "Roses for my rose?" Cheesy, but it might work.

I wasn't expecting her to start crying, however. Tears sprung into her eyes and spilled over, her hand covering her open mouth shakily.

_What did I do wrong?_

"I'm sorry," she whimpered, taking the roses, "I'm sorry I know it's stupid…"

"Annie, I don't mind, I just want you to _tell_ me…"

She sucked in a breath and then looked at me firmly. "They're beautiful. Thank you. I'm glad they're not daisies."

"What does that mean?"

She shook her head and wiped her tears away, "Just forget it."

Then she took my hand and led me down to her beach with all the little white shells. I followed silently, trying to remember if she'd ever said anything to do with daisies. We sat down on the sand and watched the sun rise further on the horizon. "I need to apologize to Echo," Annie said suddenly, "I can't believe how unfair I've been."

"We all know you don't mean it Annie," I said, patting her hand. She turned suddenly, looking intently on my face. I stole a look back, raising my eyebrows. Her eyes shifted down to my lips. An electric current tingled down from my lips to my fingertips. I leaned forward very slightly, but she tensed and threw her hand up.

"Wait," she said firmly. I retreated back to where I was and watched her expectantly. She rubbed her temples and laughed for a second, then whispered to herself. _"You are not losing your grip. You're okay. He's Finnick, he's not…"_

She snapped her head up and said sort of desperately, "Say your name. Like, outloud. Say who you are."

She seemed perfectly serious, so I responded, "I'm Finnick."

She sighed and closed her eyes, whispering, _"See? He's Finnick…he's not…"_

"You're not a monster," she said like a question, "And you're not…him. You're not Troy. You're Finnick."

"Yes, I'm Finnick. And I'm very alive and human, thank you."

Annie returned my smile, but a little half-heartedly. "Yes you are." She continued to study me for a second and then said, "Don't move."

I obeyed, but kept my eyes on her. Slowly she moved closer while switching her eyes from my face to my lips. She slowly pulled her leg over mine so that she was sitting in my lap with her knees planted in the sand on either side. My legs were stretched out, but I started to pull them in to make her more comfortable when she cringed and shut her eyes. "_Please don't move_," she pleaded, each word containing a bit of bite. I stiffened my back again and slowly, cautiously lowered my legs.

"Sorry," I whispered with a small smile. She breathed and calmed herself down, then opened her eyes, using her hands to scoot further up my lap until her face was inches from mine and I was having a hard time not going cross-eyed. Every inch of my body wanted to respond, wanted to move, wanted to reach out for her, but I had to stay still. If anything, it made it more intense, knowing I couldn't do what I wanted to.

Annie pulled her hands up to the sides of my face, exploring the contours of my cheekbones with her fingertips. My lip twitched, giving away the building electricity gathering up inside of me.

"Don't move," she repeated in barely a whisper. I nodded slightly, keeping my eyes on hers. From this close I could see that little freckle between her eyes that was bigger than the others. She lowered her face close enough to mine that we were almost touching, Her breath was tickling my skin and the electricity was sparking from my every pore, trying to connect with her. She tilted her head but kept her lips hovering over mine for what seemed like an agonizing hour. My fingers twitched, needing to reach up and touch her.

Finally she tilted her chin in, her soft lips connecting with mine.

_Don't move._

Fireworks were exploding under my skin, but I closed my eyes and forced myself to stay still. Annie pressed kissed harder, parting her lips slightly so she engulfed my bottom lip with hers. If I wasn't able to move soon, I might explode.

She backed up and breathed, saying, "Okay…mm, okay then."

She wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me again, but this time I couldn't stop myself from responding. I pulled my legs up and ran my hands up her back, tangling my fingers in her hair. I allowed my mouth to move with hers, and for a moment the whole world seemed to melt away for a while.

She pulled away again, but this time she leaned her forehead against mine and smiled.

"You okay?" I asked, trying to contain my euphoria. She nodded and took a deep breath.

"I'm glad I could do that," she said finally, rubbing her hand over my arm. Then with a look of fascination, she reached out and placed her fingertips over my heart. "Thud thud thud," she said with a light smile. I smiled and mimicked her, putting my hand over her heart. Then I took it away and kissed the spot in the hollow of her chest where I could feel her pulse thumping with life.

"At least it's beating."

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

"At least it's beating," he said firmly. Suddenly, I really wanted to go for a swim. I stood up and pulled Finnick up with me. Before he could ask what I was doing, I yanked off his unbuttoned shirt and then pulled my dress over my head, letting it fall unceremoniously to the sand. Then I spun and leapt into the water.

Swimming with Finnick was one of the clearest moments for me of that time. I remembered how every movement he made had some sort of direct purpose, a strength to it. I watched my hair make snakes in the water that slithered all over my face. I accidentally scared away fish, but they always came back. Because I wasn't a Monster. At least not right now.

When the current started getting stronger, we started for the shore. When my feet connected with the sand, and sprang on to Fin's back and held myself there, feeling his chest heave with his laughter. It felt good…to be happy again.

We came crashing onto the shore, collapsing in the waves and sand breaking over each other. It tried to knock my forward and then slide me back in again, but I was strong enough with Fin to stay on where I was.

"Don't move," I said again suddenly, catching his eye. His laughter stopped but he kept his smile, his expression going curious. I felt more vulnerable now without my dress, but at the same time just as safe. I pushed Fin by the shoulders until he was practically laying down, just leaned up enough on his elbows to stop his face from going under every time a wave broke. He was watching me, his grin twisting up a little bit more. I admired how the water clung to the perfect, golden muscles on his chest and shoulders and biceps. He was truly like the sun had turned human.

I sat across his lap again and then slowly lowered myself so that our bare chests pressed up against one another's.

_Careful Annie, he could be dangerous._

_You're not pretty enough for him._

_How could you kiss him, when Troy died for you?_

I pushed my thoughts in to torment me later—which I'm sure they would—and focused on the energy passing between me and Finnick. I pinned his hands down so he wouldn't be tempted to move them and kissed him again, closing my eyes and tasting the salt on his lips. I also felt powerful, that I could stop a bull like him from even moving a muscle. I could be strong again. I'd find my strength. For now, I would stay right here. With him.

"Can I _please_ move?" he whispered in a pained voice, keeping his mouth near my neck.

I smiled and gently bit his lower lip and gave it a tug. "Not yet."

Yes, I could stay like this for as long as I live.


	31. Chapter 31

_Sorry it took so long! They're a little bit short but i needed to set the stage really for the rest of the story which required some spotty fast fowarding. enjoy! Happy reading!_

**PART TWO**

**31**

**Four Years**

So now here we are. Over the years Annie's symptoms have become more stable. If she doesn't know what's going on or what is not real, she'll simply ask. It no longer makes us feel uncomfortable or upset, it's easy, like breathing. It's only a big deal if we make it that.

Pearl and Stephen had a second child, a girl, named Kiandra. She's two now, and Kai is four. They're both already the most stunning, adorable hell raisers in the entire district. For the past four years I've gotten to see them as part of my own family.

It's morning and Annie hasn't woken up yet. We did some renovating in my house and got a bed with a canopy so we could drape these thin white curtains to keep out the mosquitoes while leaving the entire left wall open to face the beach. I loved the breeze and the salty air circulating in the room and the full sky of stars above. When it rains, we simply slide the walls closed. The advantage of being far too rich between two Games victors.

Annie stirs and her eyes open, finding me for that moment of reassurance that whatever she'd just been dreaming about wasn't real.

"Did we ever leave this house during the night?" she asks calmly, keeping her eyes trained on me.

"Nope," I say, placing a kiss on her forehead. Her hands slip around my neck and she kisses me on the lips, her hair tickling my cheek. "You know I have to leave today? After the reaping?"

"The Seventy-Forth Hunger Games," she sighs, looking up at the sky. It was tinted pink with the sunrise and radiating off her face.

"Indeed," I agree, falling back against the pillows and cloud gazing with her.

"I guess I'll use the extra time to get some fishing and nets done then." Annie rolls over on her stomach and rests her chin on my chest. "Tell me the truth; did you ever tell me that you think about me when you're gallivanting in the Captiol?"

I bite my lip and look at her. There's no way I'm winning this one. "Honestly? Yes, when I'm walking around and doing normal things. If I'm with a girl, no. It's insulting to you and honestly I don't like to picture myself being with you when I haven't been. So no, I never said that."

She nods and then dives right back in. "Fin, can you tell me what it's like?"

"What _what's_ like?"

"You know what I'm talking about."

I groan and wipe my hand down my face, "Annie, why are we having this conversation right now?"

"I'm twenty-two now Fin and I've been with you for what, five years or so? You experience it on a weekly, maybe daily basis, when I never have."

"Now it's not like we haven't done _anything…_"

"I'm not saying that's what I want right now," she interrupts, placing a finger on my chin, "I just want to know what it's like. We can have this conversation, can't we?"

I squirm a little inside and then explain, though I'm sure I have before. "I can't really say what it's _supposed _to be like Annie, you're supposed to only do it with your spouse and be in love and everything. What I do, it's just for their amusement. It's fun I guess, it's exhausting too though. But I'm sort of numb towards the whole act now."

Annie frowns, "So if we ever did you wouldn't enjoy it?"

"That's not what I meant," I correct her quickly, "I'm just saying that with all these nameless girls it means nothing. With you, I am pretty much as clueless as you are."

She laughs and pats my chest with her hand, "I wouldn't say clueless. You've had a lot of practice I'm sure you at least know what you're doing." She leans up and kisses my nose and then sits up and stretches. I sit up and yawn, throwing her a smile.

"I've said it once and I've said it before," I say, "as soon as they let me retire from the Capitol, I'll marry you whether you like it or not."

She smiles and shakes her head, "That could be a _long_ time."

"Hopefully not. If it is…well, we could break a few rules."

I give her a wink and start preparing myself for the Reaping ceremony before Garcia could bang down my door. I went with a blue shirt and black slacks and let Annie pick out any accessories. As always, she slipped the shell bracelet over my wrist with a smile and lets me know how much she loves me. I kiss her and then we go our separate ways. I think Annie is the only girl in all of Panem that isn't required to attend the reaping. The year after she returned they made her go and she caused such a scene they told her never to come back. For the best, really.

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

I sit on my beach in silence, holding my hands over my ears to block out the sounds of the anthem and the speaking and the children called up to their deaths. But it still comes, the sound still pierced the inside of my head like a long thin needle.

_It's okay Annie, it's not you. You're here, on the beach._

_But it's someone. It could be Echo._

I swallow the lump in my throat and tried to push those thoughts out. That's what the man in the suit said to do, visualize myself pushing out the bad thoughts.

_Someday it could be Kai, or Kiandra. _

I clamp my jaw shut and scream with my lips closed, pushing so hard against my ears I thought my skull would cave in. I am glad Finnick isn't here, I don't want him to see me like this. I try so hard to be as normal as I can when he's near. When I'm alone, it's a relief to let the poison roll out of me and into the ocean where it can disappear with the tide. If it left me here, I'd be okay when he's near. That's the way it works. It was comfortable. Easy.

Easier, anyway.

The tributes left. I heard the clapping and then the voice of Caesar promise to show all the other reapings in just a moment. I sigh and walk into the water, letting the cold waves splash up over my ankles, then knees, then waist, and then my face. Under water there was no voices, just the swishing of the water around my ears and sand tinkling like little pieces of glass being shaken in a jar. I can hear my heart as well.

_Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud._

I let out my air and watch the bubbles rise to the surface as I sank deeper down, then I push the water beneath me and let my head come up for air. I heard screaming echo over the waves, then a faint, "_I volunteer!"_

Someone volunteered as tribute. Not uncommon, but they usually don't scream about it. Where was this anyway? Then I hear the unmistakable voice of the ever tenacious Effie Trinket and know it was District Twelve.

Fascinating. Nobody ever volunteered there. They are always too concerned with saving their own asses that they never thought about anyone else. That's part of why nobody likes that district; it's not just their lack of class, style, and skills. It's their utter disregard for heroism. No one in that district ever felt the need to be anything more than a poor dirty coal miner. I didn't like to think of them that way, I don't think it's right to generalize a group of people like that, but so far they haven't shown me anything to prove otherwise.

Well at least until now. I wonder who she is?

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"Echo, where are you going?" I ask, picking up a basket of fruit from the ground. It was nice having them closer to Finnick's house on Victor's village. After I recovered enough, they let me pick out my house and I let Pearl and the family move in there under my name. Pearl almost cried when she saw how beautiful everything was. I don't think she ever expected to live somewhere as grand as that. There was even a play room for Kai and Kiandra.

She rolls her eyes and adjust her dress in the mirror. "I'm going out."

"With who?"

"With the peacekeepers Annie, who do you think? My friends!"

Echo was starting to become all the rage with the boys, but I think she would rather we didn't know that. Her hair is long and much straighter than Pearl's and mine, but she definitely had the biggest goldfish eyes I ever saw.

"Please be careful," is all I say before she goes out the door. Finnick was coming home tomorrow morning and I couldn't wait. Things have been really tense in the district ever since this Peeta and Katniss kids got out of the arena together by playing up some love story. I don't think the capitol liked it one bit. I tried not to watch the games if I could avoid it, but there was no denying that this was uncharacteristically merciful of them and perhaps even a mistake.

Whatever came of it, I'm sure it won't be taken sitting down.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"I don't know Annie," Finnick says, running a hand through his hair, "but something's stirring. I saw it in Snow's eyes the second he set that crown on her head. He's not happy."

"Do you think there's going to be a fight then? Another revolution?"

"_Shhhh!" _he hisses, putting a finger over my mouth. I look around quickly for any peacekeepers and then pull his finger away. "It's just…I mean, two winners? When there was only supposed to be one? I'm surprised they didn't publically execute them!"

"It's strange," he agrees, looking out at the water, "but I think he wants to use them. As tools against the unrest that they might have caused. But honestly, if they start something, I'm ready for it. After what they did to us I'm ready."

I nod and look out at the water too, "Was it real? Were they really in love?"

He chuckles and shakes his head, "Honestly? I don't know. The boy? Peeta? He's got it bad, I'm sure of that. But the girl? She's the ringleader, I really don't think it was anything more than a survival technique. A good one I'll admit, but not _love_ persay."

He looks at me and then reaches up and kisses me on the lips. "I'm glad we never had to go through something like that."

"Yes we never doubted how much _you_ loved me," I joke, pushing his arm. He makes a hurt expression and clutches his heart.

"Harsh, Annie, harsh."

I smile and shrug my shoulders, "I have to be. Who knows? Maybe they'll all pit us against one another soon enough?"

It's a joke. It's only a joke.


	32. Chapter 32

**32**

**Reaping the 75****th**** Hunger Games**

"Annie, listen to me, it's going to be okay," he assures me, getting too close to my face and clutching my arm too tightly. It isn't going to be okay. It isn't. Everything is wrong. Wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong. "Annie, _look at me."_

I push him away and stand, steadying myself on the back of the chair. "Where's the boat?" I ask, spinning around, "Where is it? We're getting away. We're going to sail away. We can take as many as we can with us and then we're running away." He looks at me sadly and tries to reach for my hand, but I whip it away. This wasn't a time for kissing, not a time for romance. This was a time to run. "We're going. I'm going to find Echo."

"Annie, it may not even be us," Finnick tries to reason, "We have a large pool of victors and…"

"YOU DON'T THINK I HAVEN'T THOUGHT OF THAT?" I shout, stamping my foot against the floor. I want to look strong and confident, but I can feel the shaking and tears coming on with no chance of stopping. "Look at yourself Fin! They _love_ you. LOVE you! This is a punishment, they want the ones that the people love to go in and fight. They want the young victors to go in and compete, that's what makes it fun, right? That's what makes it interesting? You really don't think they already have it pinned who they want? We're going."

Finnick grabs my hand and forces me to look at him. "Annie, I'm ready for it. I want to fight. I'm tired of rolling over for the Capitol. I don't want to go, but if I have to, I can. I'll come back, I promise."

I wiped the tears away forcibly and pointed at the floor, "Listen. That Katniss girl has to go in. They're going to do something with her and her boyfriend, the rest of them are all pawns."

I storm out before he can stop me. This is what it must feel like to be Pearl when she's in a rage. I feel betrayed, I feel panicked, backed into a corner. I feel my feet thundering against the ground and there was a lot of power in it. It felt good.

"Annie, come back," Finnick said behind me, but he's far enough back he can't catch me. Not right now. A peacekeeper is patrolling the streets. Did he know? Did he plan this? Did he approve?

"Miss, you need to get back in your house and watch the program. It's mandatory."

"Screw you and your program," I bark back, pushing his shoulders. I didn't like the feel of peacekeeper uniforms, it was almost like plastic.

"Excuse me? Miss, you are on thin ice. Get back in your house."

"HOW LONG DOES THIS GO ON BEFORE YOU JUST LINE US UP AND SHOOT US, HUH? IS THAT WHAT YOU'RE WAITING FOR?"

I don't know where all this anger was coming from, but I liked it. For once I didn't feel so weak.

That is until the butt of the gun struck me across the face and I was forced down to my knees. I tasted blood in my mouth, but instead of crying I spit it out on the peacekeeper's boots. He grabs my face painfully and shoves me up against the wall beside us, the dusty sand falling off the plaster around me. It's difficult to read his expression with his sunglasses on, but I could tell he wasn't happy.

"You're pretty, aren't you little lady?" he hisses, his foul breath brushing past my neck. Flashes of Riff send shivers up my spine. "Do you know what we do to defiance like that?"

His free hand pushed my stomach against the wall and then began slithering up, making my insides squirm. But I couldn't move, the way I'm pinned I can't even scream. My strength was leaving quickly for fear. He leans in and whispers into my ear; "You have two options. Take the whipping your due for disobeying a peacekeeper and talking back, or pay the debt in…_private._"

"Get away from me," I growl, trying to shove him away. Then I hear Finnick's voice cut over the top of us.

"Hey! What's going on here?"

But he isn't fast enough, I'm being dragged away. What's happening?

_Where am I?_

"Stop!" Finnick shouts, but we're still moving until we hit the clearing in the roads and I'm thrown to the ground. I try to make sense of everything when a sharp pain snaps across my back and I straighten up, startled and hurt. The peacekeeper is brandishing his whip and brings it down again across my shoulders. I cry out and start to sink into the whirlwind of thoughts that were always in the back of my head about monsters and darkness.

I hear voices and shouting, mostly from Finnick. "She's unstable, everybody knows that! Look, she's wearing a medical bracelet…"

"Finnick, run! The dragon's going to whip you with his tail!" I shout, throwing dirt at him. But instead he lifts me from the ground and takes me home where he draws a bath and forces me to sit still while he cleans the whip marks on my back. The small traces of blood made snakes in the water but Finnick wasn't interested when I told him about them.

"Are you angry with me?" I ask, twirling a blood snake until it blended in with the water and turns pink like a rose. He doesn't make a sound but continues to clean my back. It hurts but I stay silent about it. Finnick told me once that sometimes pain just meant bad things, little monsters, were leaving my body. So I don't cry when they leave, I laugh. I laugh because it's lonely for those little painful monsters in the bath, cold outside my body. It's funny. So I laugh. Tee hee.

"What's funny?" he grumbles, using the soaked rag to run the water down my back.

"The monsters are leaving," I giggle, splashing the water lightly with my fingers. He sighs and kisses the back of my head.

"We're going to be okay," he says, "Everything's going to be okay."

"You can say that," I say, standing up and leaving the tub, "but I don't believe a word of it. You don't have to lie you know."

"It's more for my benefit," he admits, tossing the rag into the bath, "I never thought we'd be in position again. I never dreamed they could do this. To put the lot back in again…"

"I don't want to hear it anymore," I cut across him. Enough is enough. "The monsters are coming and there's nothing we can do to stop them so let's just not talk about it anymore."

We fall asleep that night not enveloped in each other's arms, but lying on our backs and holding hands. I'm not sure if I slept at all really, more like just a drift. I would drift from darkness to terrors to warmth and strength found in his hand. I can feel it in my bones. The reaping is only going to be the beginning of the terrors ahead.

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

We stand in the square in a tight knot. The sections be damned, we are a family. Crabbe, myself, Tristan, Mags, Annie, Oceanra, Sheldon, and the others. Annie is quivering and whimpering, clinging to my hand and to Mags. But she wasn't in much a better state herself, Mags. Age has rendered her almost incoherent; she could barely speak nonetheless run and jump. But her eyes were the same, they showed that no matter what she understood.

Tristan's face is white and hollowed out. He recently got married and had a son named James. If he had to return to the arena, he'd leave his new family and all their hopes and dreams behind. I pitied him.

Crabbe, well, I think he is drunk. Judging from the way he keeps clutching Sheldon's shoulder.

"Don't cry."

I turn to see Marina standing behind me. She said it again, like that day she did on the stage. "Don't cry."

I blinked and she was gone, her figure morphed into a scrawny blonde girl waiting in the wings next to her mother. Clearly not Marina, though it convinced my mind. For a moment.

Garcia looked flat and lacked all her usual luster when taking the stage. She didn't laugh or giggle or try to make jokes. She just read her lines and stood aside when it wasn't her turn. She still dressed in a fish-inspired manor, but it was black.

"I'll read for the ladies first," she says at last, walking up to the bowl. I tighten my grip on Annie and kiss her hair to remind her where the real world was and what to hold on to. I could feel the vibrations of her shaking in my entire body. Oceanra actually buried her face in her hands. The poor woman. I remember her baking me a welcoming pie when I moved into Victor Village.

"Oh no…"

Garcia probably thought no one heard that, but the microphone was an inch too close and the faint whisper of it echos like a ghost over the dead silent gathering of mourners. Oh those poor things, they say, to have to go back there.

Who was it then? Who's the oh no for?

"Um…Annie. Annie Cresta."

The reaction is instantaneous. I can't tell who screamed louder, Pearl and Echo or Annie herself. She dropped to her knees and slammed her hands over her ears and let out a mind-splitting wail that caught the octave above what I thought was possible. Everyone was looking at her in pity, fear, and expectancy.

_No, not Annie again. Please, she'll die._

_Don't you see Fin? It's what they want. No one really gets away from the Capitol, no one really gets mercy. They knew they wanted her dead the second she came out alive._

Rage fills me up and I stand in front of her as the peacekeepers come for her. There's no way I'm letting them take her. Not again.

"Back off," I warn them. They pay no attention and continue their steady advance. Annie is sobbing and screaming and saying something about how they're going to take off my head and make her drink the blood. Pearl is being held in place by Stephen, and Echo by the children who don't understand anything that's going on. "I said BACK OFF."

Arms clamp around me and I'm withheld as they take Annie roughly under the arms and start dragging her kicking and screaming up to the stage. It was horrible, just horrible to watch. She thrashes so much I'm afraid she's going to break her neck.

"Let me go!" I beg, trying to pull away, but the peacekeepers have me in a tight hold. Annie isn't released even when she's on stage, but it was clear to everyone that she isn't going to make it out alive. She's in hysterics, her lips were almost blue. I want to die.

"Any…volunteers?" Garcia asks miserably. I start to bow my head in misery when I see Mags press her hand firmly up in the air and walk for the stage with sure, confident steps. At first I feel confused. Then relief. Then terror, for Mags.

When the old woman takes the stage, she kisses Annie on the forehead and then gestures for the peacekeepers to let her go. Oh Mags, does she even know what she did?

Annie is taken off stage but they force her to sit with her head shoved between her knees. I watch her sadly and then look at Mags who's eyes are trained out on some spot we can't see.

"And now the boys…Finnick Odair."

Of course. How could I be surprised? It was their plan to have us be the second couple, the counter of Peeta and Katniss. Finnick and Annie in the arena, me desperately trying to save her while frantically trying to kill the new favorites in order to save our hides. But they probably didn't count on someone like Mags.

Annie's answering scream slices the air until they inject her with something and she falls silent, unconscious against the doctor. I see it all happen as I make my way for the stage.

_Slap on your face Finnick, you're the Golden Boy now. Do it for yourself. Do it for Mags._

I stood stone-faced until the ceremony was over. I see Pearl, Echo, and Stephen all staring up at me with hard faces, conveying any and all emotion they feel for me. My second family. Kai and Kiandra are crying pitifully, no doubt very confused. And then my own friends, pouring their hearts out to me in a look. They were such a huge part of my life and I wish I'd been better to them. I should have had more parties. I should have had more meals with them. Played more games. Gone on more fishing trips. Found Martin a real girlfriend. I saw my own mother, the woman I loved so much and barely saw, giving me the four fingered salute and dabbing tears with the other hand. I should have spoken to her more. Told her I loved her…

It ends and I glance at Annie who is groggily trying to stand up but was unsuccessful. I just needed to say good-bye…just one last good-bye…

"New policy. Off you get."

I was suddenly shoved from behind and we are ushered off stage and into a waiting car.

"Wait!" I cry, trying to get out, "We need to say good-bye to our families!"

"I said, new policies. Now watch'er fingers."

The door was slammed shut and we are whisked away from our homes in silence, the last words, our last few pieces of our hearts held in our mouths and on our laps but not where they should be. With our loved ones. I look down at my hands as my eyes start to well and see the seashell bracelet and press it to my lips.

_Good-bye Annie. I love you. I love you so much._

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Garcia, Mags, and I sat in silence, picking at our food with disinterest. Then Tristan enters with a blank face, steadying himself against the doorway.

"I'm your mentor," he explains, "Rules are rules. Even if you are over eighty years old or something."

He plops down into the seat and stares at the food for a moment, before grabbing a fistful of risotto and throwing it across the room was an angry shout that startles all of us.

"What?" he demands, "let's not pretend this is what it isn't. If I want to throw some food, I'm going to. And if it makes you two happy them you damned well better do it too."

I slip my hand under the table and find Mags' hand empty on her lap and hold it. Privately it says thank you for your sacrifice. Thank you because we both know you're going to die. Thank you for all the years you've been by my side. Thank you more than I can ever thank you.

Maybe if I could find the words for it, I'd say it too. But for now, I could feel the energy passing between our clutched hands and knew, as always, she understood.

Garcia eventually started crying and left the table. Tristan excused himself shortly after as well, disappearing into his room to either sleep or drink. I couldn't blame him for either. I walk Mags to her room and when she just goes in and sits on her bed and starts humming, a wave of nostalgia and pity washes over me. I sit behind her in the bed and take her remaining gray and white hair and start to play with it gently, the way she always did to comfort us. I braid it and unbraid it, twist some pieces together and watch them untwirl. Tomorrow I'd focus on a plan. Tomorrow I'd find a way to survive. But for tonight, I'm going to try to pay Mags back for all the kindness she's shown. I tell her stories about fishing boats, I tell her all the wonderful things I used to hear about her husband before he died. I tell her how inspiring she is and how kind. I tell her she's like my family. And I tell her how everything is going to be alright all while I play with her hair until her steady breaths tell me she's asleep and I leave.

In the dark, loneliness of my room, I stare at the ceiling. I stare at the bracelet. And finally, I take the extra pillow and hug it against my chest, burrowing my face into it and pretending it smelled of salt water and flowers the way Annie did. It helps in a childish way. I hope that somewhere out there she's getting along alright, knowing I'm gone. I'm gone and I'm probably not coming back.

So finally, when I couldn't take the silence, I whisper, "_Goodnight Annie," _kiss the bracelet, and then will myself to sleep.


	33. Chapter 33

_Hey guys, so for the rest of the chapters you're going to have to forgive my 'tense' errors. In the story before the books i wrote in past tense and wanted to switch to present for the events in the books to reflect more of Susan Collins in there. But it results in some awkward accidental sentences which i may or may not fix. enjoy anyway, happy reading!_

**33**

**A Promise…and a Really Bad Poem**

"You have our word,' I say, putting my arm around Mags' shoulders, "We're ready to fight"

"Do we really have to do _everything_ to keep her alive? Can't we just focus on the boy?" Johanna complains, crossing her arms over her chest. "She's just so…I don't even know."

"_Yes."_ Haymitch responds firmly, "She's the weapon in this. She's the face of the revolution. We can't let her die. At all costs. Are you with us, Johanna?"

She shuffles her feet and then begrudgingly and then says, "You got it." Blight, her district partner, smiles and slaps her shoulder affectionately.

Chaff, Seeder, Beetee, Wiress, all confirmed their allegiance as well. Cecelia, poor Cecelia, shook her head. "I'm sorry," she says, "But it's too much danger for me. I'm not in this to make a statement, I don't want…my children to see me fight on that screen. I want to be at peace."

Haymitch kisses her cheek and looks at her through clearing blood-shot eyes, "If we can, we'll get you out and home to your family. I promise."

She smiles and pats his cheek before taking the stairs down from the roof. I watch her go sadly. It was all too depressing, all these great, glorified warriors I've grown to know all pitted against each other. But if Haymitch is right, if there's a plan, I'll follow.

Tristan, Gerome, and the other mentors that accompanied their tributes to the meeting swore to help as well, even if it meant death. It made me feel good that Tristan joined. I don't know what it was about him that constantly made me crave to see him succeed, but I did. I always wanted the best for him ever since he returned with me after Marina's death. I realize now that his agreeing to the plan also meant he could die, and then the happy life he built up with his Molly would all be destroyed.

As we were all leaving, Chaff came up behind my shoulder and whispered, "Mind if I borrow that little rope number sometime, hm Casanova?"

I chuckled and pushed him away, "You can keep it."

That night I sit with Mags on the couch and Tristan in the residing chair, studying the techniques of the other tributes and trying to form a game plan. I've kept in shape. I can still fight. I'm probably better off than the vast majority of the other tributes. Good, yes. For Katniss and Peeta. For me? It meant I had a lot of weight falling on my shoulders. Johanna and Blight would help…Mags…well, Mags, I love her very much, but she could only _help_ to a certain extent. And it's not a very far extent. But she saved Annie's life, so I owe her my every effort to keep her alive until I no longer can or until we are rescued. Hopefully the latter.

There is something else inside me and I think it's excitement. My life for the past four years has found a purpose in protecting Annie. And while that is a wonderful purpose and not one I'm willing to trade out, I want more. I need something in my life that has to do with _me,_ what _I _need to do and feel. And what I want is to fight. To change something about how this damn world works. To wrap my hands around Snow's throat and watch the light leave his eyes. He broke me first, then he broke my family and then he broke Annie. It's time for justice.

Mags garbles something while tugging on my arm that I make out to be, "_What's on your mind?"_

I shrug and squint at the lights outside our window. "It just feels really good to be taking…" I remember where we are and change the course of my sentence. An avox is watching me from across the room. "To finally be doing something. Life at home was growing stagnant."

Tristan seems to understand and chuckls suddenly. "You can understand what she says?" he asks, pointing to Mags with a good natured smile. She sticks her tongue out at him which gets a laugh from me.

_Oh, the fun we three have together._

"Don't cry," Marina's voice tells me suddenly. I look and she's sitting next to Tristan in the dress she wore on the Reaping Day. Her presence startles me but suddenly it seems right that she's there. Tristan, Mags, Marina, and me, just like it was in the beginning. Outside there's a chant going out screaming 'KATNISS! KATNISS! PEETA! PEETA!'

"They sound ridiculous," Tristan critiques with a sip of his drink.

Marina glances out the window and then looks at me, "I told you they always choose a favorite."

I respond with a whisper, "I see how this is going to be."

"What's that?" Tristan asks, eyeing me. Of course, no one else sees the girl but me.

"Nothing," I wave my words away. Suddenly an avox walks to my side silently and hands me a note, her eyes downcast the whole time.

"If I had shoes that nice I'd probably stare at them too," I say, trying to make her laugh. She flicks her eyes up to mine for a moment and lets a small smile show before scampering away. I open the note and it reads:

_Report to room 211 immediately. Report to room 213 promptly after. This is not optional._

I stare at the piece of paper and then fold it up and stand. "I have some last minute business to attend to I believe," I tell them. Marina is gone. "I'll be back soon."

The elevator takes me down a few levels then I have to ask an avox to show me the rest of the way to room 211. When I open the door I'm confronted with my old flame, Estelle Panarella. She's dressed in a provocative red dress and lips to match, her hair messily pinned up away from her face.

"Hello," I say blankly, closing the door.

"Hello."

I try again. "What's this all about?"

She looks genuinely sad for a moment then presses on. "I…I'm going to miss watching you prance around in your beautiful, golden life when you're gone."

I raise my eyebrow and fold my arms. "You've already written me off as dead, then?"

"That's not what I meant…"

"But it sort of is." She stares at me for a second than shrugs.

"You plan on winning then? Against Katniss and Peeta?"

I smile. "One can't live without the other and they can't both win this time. They're going to be easier to beat than people think. She can't even tie a decent knot." I laugh to myself remembering the look on Everdeen's face when I finished that knot for her. The littlest things can take a strong woman down so easily sometimes.

She bites her lip to consider this and then approaches me with that hungry gleam in her eye.

_Ah, yes. Now we get down to the point._

"I…paid a lot to money to be the last girl you get to have before you go back to the arena."

"Did you now?"

"I did."

I roll my eyes inwardly and then get it over with, still remembering that Annie's life was on the line. Then I kissed her good-bye, thanked her for the memories, and then went to room 213.

When I open the door I'm suddenly bombarded with the sobbing frame of a woman. At first I was confused and then I recognize the blonde bouncy hair and sigh.

"Hello, Lacey."

Lacey too, spent a lot of money to be the last girl I was with. I hope this isn't going to become a trend. I thank her for the help with Annie's games and again, the memories, and then leave. On my walk back to my room, Celeste appears next to me just to say, "Prostitute," before disappearing into the air again. I go straight to bed after that, but don't sleep well. I almost wish Lacey or Estelle had come here so that I could wrap my arms around someone real and pretend she's Annie. Instead I settle for my pillow again.

That following morning, I collapse into my seat at breakfast with a sigh. My dreams that night consisted of graphic replays of my time in the sixty-fifth hunger games. Celeste, Viper, and Hector probably killed me three times each.

"You looked tired…and a little disheveled, dear boy," Tristan notes while sipping his coffee.

I remember a thing that Annie said once and repeat it, "The worst part about being crazy is you have the most vivid dreams."

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

"Hey, Annie, Finnick is up," Echo calls from the other room. I drag myself in and sit down, seeing him strut up to the stage in all his glory. He's wearing that ridiculous smile that they all cheer for and took his seat. There's an odd tension about the set, as if a lot was being said that shouldn't be. Finnick is no exception.

"To my only true love."

A roar of cheers rip through the air and I actually have to turn the volume down on the television to make it bearable. He smiles and soaks it in then whips out a piece of paper and starts reading.

"_To my dearest love wherever she is now_

_There's none to match your physique_

_For my life I don't know how_

_The parting of your lips, the blush of your cheek_

_Forces my knees to bow_

_The freckle there between your eyes_

_So lucky it is to sit_

_Between two orbs that stole the sky_

_In their color, their charm, their wit_

_I cannot believe this is goodbye_

_But I'm afraid it's all too true_

_But in my heart time stands by_

_And the sun it sets for you_

_So to my one true love out there_

_Wherever you may be_

_If you're listening, this I swear _

_I love you more than love would dare_

_And thank you for loving me."_

A smile stretches across my lips, even as the thousands upon thousands of women out there in the capitol screamed and fainted and bawled. Because as cheesy, ridiculous, and sappy that poem was, it was written for me. Echo looks at me and I blush.

"That was…something else," she says with raised eyebrows, "Can I see that freckle he's talking about?"

"He made it sappy on purpose. Look at them all, it worked out just the way he wanted it to."

She snickers and turns back to the screen. "Even so."

The rest of the tributes are something else too. Katniss kills, but it's Peeta who really takes the cake. Echo turns back to me with a look of intrigue. "Do you think she's _really_ pregnant?"

I shrug, "Does it matter?"

The horror in the audience is evident and the tributes all stand and clasp hands, making the chaos thicker until the cameras cut out entirely to Claudius Templesmith who was covering by saying something about all the excitement. I roll my eyes and go to my room that I used to share with Finnick. Echo could see herself out.

When, once again, confronted with the empty bed, I sigh and curl up under the blanket and tuck my head in, pretending he is there. It's been tiring these past few days, staring at his empty chair at an empty table and his untouched wardrobe. He left all the time for the capitol, but I never feared him not returning. Not since about ten years ago when he had his games. And at that point, we weren't even friends.

"I love you Fin," I whisper before going trying to sleep. I did that every night and I wasn't going to stop now. Maybe he knew I was saying it even if he couldn't hear me.

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

**Days later, in the evening of the first day in the arena.**

Mags and I are the only ones who manage to get a grip on Katniss and Peeta and escape the Cornucopia alive. I thought about going back for Wiress and Beetee but in the fray I see Johanna and Blight grab them and swim for shore. Seeder and Chaff and Cecelia are nowhere to be seen. Killing Devin from District Five hurt; I'd admired the way he held himself when he was in the Capitol. But I made a commitment, so I'm going to follow through.

Mags babbles at Katniss until she forks over the awl. I can't imagine how Mags must appear to those who don't know her well. It seems Katniss likes her though, and Peeta seems to like everyone, so all is smooth sailing. Mags, clamping her awl in her mouth, waddles over to me and holds up her arms. I can only imagine her going, "Up! UP!" like Kai and Kiandra back home. With a smile I toss the net over my shoulder, grip all my new tridents—thank you Plutarch Heavensbee—in my free hand and lift Mags onto my shoulder. Good thing she doesn't weigh very much. Katniss gave me a look and then focuses on the ground as Peeta takes the lead, whacking away plants and vines with a large knife. I follow behind him with Katniss at the rear, though I don't really like having my back to her. She definitely doesn't trust me. But I sacrificed my shell bracelet in order for Haymitch to give me one of his gold ones and I think that's the only thing keeping her from killing me. That, and her love for Mags.

We climb rapidly up the inclines, not daring to speak and waste our breath. The heat is just like the rainforests back home, but with Mags on my shoulder it is a little more grueling. I'm impressed with how well the two new kids are holding up. After an hour of climbing, heaving, and stumbling, all the heat and jostling starts to take a toll on Mags. I can hear it in the haggard way she starts breathing.

"Hey guys, can we take a break?" I ask finally, practically tasting the relief in the air. They nod and we flop down where we are and suck in some deep breaths of the soupy air.

I can feel the thoughts in Katniss's head reeling, sending sparks out her ears. Haymitch warned me she was a hothead and was going to take a lot of convincing to get her to trust me, but for the life of me I can't figure her out. She is pretty, in a tough, bony and chiseled way. Almost masculine, but her lips and eyelashes kill that. Physique-wise she is definitely in good shape, but I've seen figures of every different sizes and I barely know what's considered attractive, but she certainly had potential. She was a little boxy, and a little flat. Annie is pretty thin from her rough childhood but she still has some nice curves where they count.

"I'm going to go check out what's going on," Katniss announces, standing up. Peeta watches her go, probably unaware of how lovesick he looks. She scales the tree easily—impressive—and disappears into the canopy. Peeta goes back to digging a few lines in the dirt and I decide to like him. I always liked him during his games and his self-sacrificing attitude, but now that I see him in person I like him even more. He was just so…_good._ So genuine; a rare quality in people I've noticed. I wish I could tell him the whole plan but somehow I don't think talking about it out loud _in_ the arena is a good idea. Even so, I wish I could do something to help him catch on…to let him know it's not all lost yet…

We hear the leaves rustle and know she's on her way back down. I remember the way her face lit up the night of the interviews when everyone held hands. How betrayed, how untrusting she probably feels after witnessing all of us seasoned tributes slicing at each other as if we never shared a single memory.

"You might wanna be careful," Peeta says in a low voice, tilting his head back in Katniss' direction. By that time I had my trident up in the defense position, waiting for one of her blasted arrows to come piercing through the trees.

"Already on it," I say casually, watching the foliage. At least _someone_ realizes I am essential.

She lands and looks at me with surprise, not because she innocently thought I was going to attack but because I foresaw she planned to attack.

"What's going on down there, Katniss? Have they all joined hands? Taken a vow of nonviolence? Tossed the weapons in the sea in defiance of the Capitol?" She scowls more with every word I say.

"No."

"No," I repeat, "Because whatever happened in the past is in the past. And no one in this arena was a victor by chance." As a side note, and almost a joke, I add, "Except maybe Peeta." That kid would probably try to trade some bread rolls for his life before he attacked anyone.

That catches her off guard more than I thought I would. Apparently she didn't realize everyone knows how much better he is than all of us murderers running around. And admittedly a little weaker by circumstance.

She holds my stare and once again I feel her wheels cranking in her head.

_How long would it take for him to stab me before I shoot him? Would he see me flinch and make his move? Is he just waiting to make his move the second I blink? No…_

Ah ha, it appears she's coming to a decision. I have no intention to kill her, but this could be my chance to prove I'm trustworthy by giving her back her life even when I could take it away. The second she releases one of those arrows I'm knocking it out of the way and taking her out by the ankles. Then she—

"So how many are dead?" Peeta asks deliberately, stepping between us. I'm both relieved and annoyed.

"Hard to say," she responds through her teeth, "At least six, I think. And they're still fighting."

Well if she's willing, I'm willing to bite the bait Peeta was throwing out. Peeta, pretending not to notice how tense she is, presses on. "Let's keep moving. We need water."

Agreed. I think I lost half my body weight in sweat just climbing up that incline. "Better find some soon," I say, "We need to be undercover when the others come hunting us tonight."

_Yes, Katniss, _we.

She grinds her teeth and take a few more glances between me and my trident before relaxing and moving away. I smile and let my trident fall, glad the spat is over. She's a dangerous little viper when she wants to be.

Peeta takes the lead again and we resume our order, except now I'm even more aware of how dangerous is it to have her behind me. There's no sign of water and my throat starts to ache, knowing it can't have what it wants, making it want it more. I remember being this thirsty twice in my life; in my original games before I got a lot of sponsor gifts, and another time when Annie and I were thatching a roof on the hottest day of the year. It was only a year ago I believe, and for some reason the family had nothing to drink except the dog's water. Quite honestly, at this moment, I'd _love_ some dog water.

"WATCH—"

Suddenly there's a sharp zapping sound and Peeta's back comes sailing into my chest, knocking both me and Mags to the ground. I'm stumbling to recover when I see Katniss, horrified, feeling his lips for air and pressing her ear to his chest.

_Shit._

Peeta lies in front of us completely unconscious. No breathing, and judging by how wide Katniss' eyes are getting, no heartbeat.

"Peeta!" she screams, shaking him. I watch in utter fascination as she slaps his face and rattles him about, shrieking his name over and over. I remember my promise to Haymitch and silence the survivor inside of me telling myself to let him die, that it was one less to worry about. I quickly prop a disgruntled Mags against a tree and shove Katniss out of the way.

"Let me," I say curtly, feeling for his pulse. Nothing. I run my fingers over his ribs and feel no break. Nothing in his spine either. Judging from the faint smell of burning, he was somehow electrocuted. Instinct and years of practice and application take over and I pinch his nostrils shut.

"NO!" Katniss shrieks, hurling herself at me.

_No time Fin._

I whip around and punch her square in the chest, not stopping to watch her fall back or feel bad for what I did. It was necessary.

I pinch off Peeta's nose again and tilt his chin up, breathing air into his lungs the way I did to my father all those years ago. And then to Annie. I've even done it to Martin and a few of my friends when heat exhaustion got to them or a fishing trip went bad. I've done it to fishermen who nearly drowned or got a heat stroke. I've done it to the sick people in the slums that Annie and I would visit.

I unzip his jumpsuit and start compressions, trying to get his heart to beat again. I can feel Katniss watching over my shoulder, waiting for the CPR to work. Honestly, after a few minutes dragged on, I started to give up. But then he let out a cough and I lean back in relief, just then realizing how tired and winded I was becoming.

Katniss is on him immediately, pushing his hair off his forehead and leaning down close to his face. "Peeta?" she whispers, searching him desperately.

His eyes open, and in all his good-natured self-deprecating humor, says; "Careful. There's a force field up ahead." She laughs but it sounds more like a choke as tears start running down her face. "Must be a lot stronger than the one on the Training Center roof," Peeta continues, no doubt disoriented, "I'm all right though. Just a little shaken."

"You were dead! Your heart stopped!" she shouts.

"Shush, Katniss!" I hiss, looking around at the trees. I don't think she hears me over the strange choking sounds she's making in her throat. What is that, her way of crying? Peeta keeps trying to placate her.

"Well, it seems to be working now. It's all right Katniss…Katniss?"

Oh the poor guy. All her sobbing is making him concerned now, even after he just died. But I knew all along he always cared for others before himself _and _had it bad for her. What's perplexing me is how attached _she_ suddenly seems to be.

"It's okay," I pant, remembering the pregnancy story again, "It's just her hormones." She looks at me and begins to protest when her voice catches again and she makes that ridiculous choking gasp sound again. If she keeps this up, I won't even have to play that card for her. She glares at me through her red eyes and seems to be struggling with something.

_Oh yeah, I'm a contestant who just brought a competitor back to life._

_How in the heck am I going to cover that?_

The way she's clutching him, the way she reacted when he was 'dead.' Maybe there _is _something there for the Fire Girl after all. Honestly this whole time she's seemed almost bored with him. Only once or twice did I ever witness a moment between them that looked genuine on her part. She's a survivor, of course. I knew that. But did he? Did he see how rehearsed she is or is he so blinded by love that he didn't know? But now…maybe it's me who's blind.

I shake my head and redirect my attention to the still immobile Peeta. "How are you? Do you think you can move on?"

"No, he has to rest," Katniss cuts over me. If I wasn't so concerned with the situation at hand I might laugh at her, the way tears and snot were smeared all over her red blotchy face was borderline repulsive. Mags, ever the sweetheart, tears down some moss and hands it to her.

Peeta and Katniss exchange some sort of conversation about a pendant. I sit there and watch them, trying not to be impatient. "So do you want to make camp here, then?"

Peeta, thank the heavens he has sense, says in short gulps; "I don't think that's an option. Staying here. With no water. No protection. I feel alright, really." Liar. "If we could just go slowly."

I had to admire his perseverance. "Slowly would be better than not at all."

I help him up while Katniss collects her bearings. She volunteers to take the lead.

"No, Katniss, it's dangerous," Peeta protests.

"No, let her do it." I look at her suspiciously, "You knew that force field was there, didn't you? Right at the last second? You started to give a warning." She nods. "How did you know?"

She hesitates and then says, "I don't know. It's almost as if I could hear it. Listen."

We do, but there's nothing that sounds abnormal. She's definitely lying, but why?

_Why doesn't really matter I guess._

"I don't hear anything," Peeta says.

She insists, giving us some story about the fences back in District Twelve. Weird, I wonder what it's like to be surrounded by fences instead of ocean?

"I don't hear it either," I continue, "But if you do, by all means, take the lead."

_And please, of the love of peace, be careful. I don't have the stamina to revive two people in one day._


	34. Chapter 34

_Just so you guys know, the cover to this story now is one that I drew of the day Finnick comes home from the reaping and Annie's all ticked off. Just a note._

_And I'll have you all know that I cried when I wrote this. Enjoy._

**34**

**Elegy to Mags**

We sit in a clump at the camp Mags and I made, roasting Katniss' weird rat meat on sticks against the force field. I can't help but relish in the idea of using a weapon of the Capitol as means for survival. Mags, who dared to eat the funny little nuts, is still kicking to we all take some as well. Unfortunately, water is still an unattained necessity.

"What was it doing when you shot it?"I ask, eager to figure out the mystery of its water source.

"I don't remember it doing much of anything," she answers glumly, "Snuffing around for bugs or something like that."

I continue to quiz her on the tree rat until the sun completely disappears and a wall of dread fills me up. What if Johanna and Blight are dead? Who's going to be up there? I can't bring myself to call any of them my enemies, but not all of them are my friends, and it's my friends I'm most worried about. The seal appears and the anthem plays. The first image is a slap in the face.

The man from District Five, Devin, whom I killed. Then Shey, the male morphling from Six. I talked to him at a party once when he was a little more sober, he seemed really kind at heart. He sort of reminded me of Tristan. Then my heart breaks as Cecelia's face lights up the sky, saying good-bye once more to the world before disappearing forever. Did she die how she hoped to? In peace, without violence?

_Why didn't she just run? We could have saved her so why didn't she run?_

Then her district partner, Woof. No doubt he died trying to save her. I have a terrible flash of Troy's head being taken off in his fight to save Annie at the river. Both from Nine, Maria and Geoff, are gone as well. I never spoke to them often but I remember Maria having a butterfly braided into her hair once and Geoff teaching me how to properly slide down a railing in style. The woman from Ten—Annabelle—is dead. We once went outside of a party to have a drink and talk about how angular the clothing in the Capitol was. She had a child named Bree and she liked to knit.

And then the final blow, Seeder. Another of our allies down. She was a good woman, very strong and trustworthy. I can only hope she died nobly.

We are silent in the camp for a long time. I take Mags' hand and squeeze it, knowing that if I am having a hard time choking back tears, she must be in despair. She cared for each and every one of those tributes. When I look, she is rubbing her heart with her free hand and staring up at the sky as if waiting for more. Strange it is now, with Mags unable to speak, how I can still understand everything she tries to convey. Peeta catches my eye and gives me a grave look before turning his eyes back to the ground. Our heavy silence is broken by the landing of a silver parachute. I stare at it, not sure if I have the stamina to move for it.

"Whose is it, do you think?" Katniss asks, her whispery voice seeming loud after such a long silence.

"No telling," I respond, suddenly ready for a distraction, "why don't we let Peeta claim it, since he died today?"

He gives a small smile and unwraps it, revealing a strange metal device that I do not recognize. Peeta studies it for a second then holds it out. "Anyone know what it is?"

We all shake our heads. He tries blowing on it to make a sound. What kind of gift would a whistle be, anyway? I slide it onto my pinky—the only finger that it will fit—and hit a tree with it. Nothing extraordinary happens. Mags even denies being able to fish with it.

We brainstorm a while until Katniss declares, "A spile!"

The sound makes me jump, because once again the silence is broken. "What?" She explains it being something like a faucet in a tree that makes sap come out. Again, I'm confused. "Sap?"

"To make syrup," Peeta explains, "But there must be something else inside these trees."

Yes, finally, an answer to our problem. After some fiddling, we get the water to stream out and quench our thirst. We fill the baskets up with it as well and I take the time to splash my face.

_Thank you, Haymitch._

Now everyone's exhausted, but I volunteer to take the first watch. Clearly Katniss trusts me now or is too tired to think straight because she lets me. Honestly, I need the time to say goodbye to the fallen. Mags, Peeta, and Katniss retreat inside the hut and I prepare myself to stay awake a few more hours. Silently, in my head, I allow myself a private ceremony.

_What do I say?_

I'm not sure what to do. At home we lay the body with the palms facing up and then burry them. After we fill a boat up with small keepsakes and items that pertain to our relationship with the deceased and send it out to sea. Sometimes people burn the boat when it leaves so that the items aren't found again. Of course, here, I can't do that. So I create my own ritual. I lie out a stick or rock that reflects something of the person lost and lie them out in front of me. A white stone for pure, strong Cecelia. A twisted stick for funny Geoff. A bright flower for Shey.

_Thank you for your sacrifice; Devin, Shey, Cecelia, Woof, Maria, Geoff, Annabelle, and Seeder. I'm honored to have met you. You will find some peace now._

I sweep the dirt away with the side of my hand until the hole is deep enough for me to place each object ceremoniously in, one by one.

_Good-bye._

I sweep the dirt back over them and they're gone, but I feel a weight lifted. I feel like I'm still myself as long as I remember what Mags taught me so long ago and respect those that fall, not relish in their deaths. I hope Annie saw it and knows I'm still the same man I was when I left.

The night stretches on and I begin to nod off, when suddenly a loud clanging sound crashes over the silence. _Bong! Bong!_ I stand up, my trident in hand, trying to figure out what is going on. Katniss is up as well, searching the trees with her eyes.

"I counted twelve," I say tensely, still darting with my eyes.

"Mean anything, do you think?"

"No idea."

But it must. It had to be something, but _what?_

Nothing happens and I start to deflate. Katniss puts a hand on my shoulder. "Go to sleep, Finnick. It's my turn to watch, anyway."

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

I watch in horror as Finnick settles down to sleep with his trident still in hand. I'm not sure I trust that girl Katniss yet, for all he knows she could be a Monster. Why did he want to ally with her so bad anyway? And why did he save her partner, Peeta? Nothing is adding up.

Lightning is exploding over a portion of the arena. They aren't telling us what's going on this year I guess because they want us to solve the mystery for ourselves. A few tributes run around, desperately afraid of being struck. But I'm not sure if it's harmful lightning.

Johanna, Blight, Beetee, and Wiress—another strange grouping—are wandering through the forest. Blight is supporting a wheezing Beetee who is bleeding badly from a wound on his back. He's clutching a spool of wire to his chest.

"I'm so thirsty," Johanna moans while Wiress sings some silly song and spins in circles when she can. "Let's head towards the lightning, maybe there'll be rain."

Blight seems to perk up at this and shifts Beetee for better support and follows Johanna in her trump. Wiress strikes a high, loud note in her song, causing Johanna to whip around. "_Would you be QUIET?"_

I feel a little bad for Wiress, but honestly, she shouldn't be singing. And why is Johanna sticking with them anyways? She could win by brute force. What a queer games this is turning out to be.

The lightning stops but then the sound of rain comes crashing down.

"Water! RAIN!" they cry with joy, taking off into the thick of the trees, straight for the sound. We at home watch in terror when suddenly they are coated in thick, red blood.

"Annie, don't watch," Stephen says suddenly, standing in front of the television. It's too late.

A switch goes off in my head and suddenly the ceiling disappears and the blood rain comes pouring down on me. I scream and try to wipe it off, but it sticks to my skin like a leech. Pearl, Stephen, and Echo all are coated in it, standing around me, dripping in crimson. Kai and Kiandra stand untouched in the corner. Troy's headless body staggers up to me from the kitchen and lifts his head in his right hand, forcing his lips against mine. I scream again and blood fills my mouth, choking me.

_Red, red, red_

_Finnick will be dead_

_His body left without his head._

My thoughts are confirmed when Blight runs straight into the force field, falling over dead. Wiress and Johanna's screams of surprise and sadness echo mine until my world twists into black.

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

"Run! RUN!"

I snap awake, lifting my trident immediately to strike when I see a thick wall of fog and know by the smell and the way Katniss is beginning to blister that it's poisonous.

_Shit._

I reach down and toss Mags over my shoulder and take off, trusting Katniss to grab Peeta. I run as fast as I can, listening for the sound of the other two crashing behind me. The mist is starting to get to me, burning my skin and eating through my suit. It would be agonizing I'm sure if my adrenaline wasn't pumping so much. I realize soon that the sound of Katniss and Peeta is further than before and force myself to stop. Peeta's clearly not doing as well as needed.

_No time, no time, no time!_

"Come on guys, you can do it!" I shout, trying to be encouraging, "We've gotta get through this!"

We are running again, but suddenly there's a snapping sound and Peeta's grounded. I look back in horror as Peeta's face sags like he's having a stroke and Katniss' arm starts seizing. The poison is getting to them. Peeta's legs aren't even working. Can they even be saved at this point?

_You have to try._

I don't want to. I'm starting to feel the acidic, chemical burn of the mist and I don't want to go towards it. But I do. I pull Peeta's arm over my shoulder and adjust Mags then keep running, Katniss struggling to help support him on the other side. It's clumsy and useless.

"It's no good," I say, "I'll have to carry him. Can you take Mags?"

"Yes."

I see the doubt in her eyes and my heart begins to sink.

_No, don't think about it. This can't last, she might be able to get her out yet._

We continue, but Katniss is much slower now and even I'm slowing.

_Get to the water. Get to the beach. It has to be safe underwater._

My arms start shaking and suddenly I can't use them anymore. I drop my remaining tridents, entrusting Peeta to hold on to the last one, and keep running, no longer able to hold on to him. He manages to stay on. Katniss falls down behind me but gets back up. Then she falls again. But she gets back up, slower than before. The sickening, hopeless feeling starts creeping up my spine, but I push it down. I can't break now, or we'll never get out.

_Don't think of it Finnick, not yet._

Katniss falls again and this time I don't hear her get up. I do hear Mags fall as well and I double back, hoping for some kind of solution. She looks wretched, covered in blisters and her face sagging. Her legs and arms are twitching uncontrollably and I'm starting to feel that dread more and more. I glance at the mist, which is fast approaching.

"It's no use," she says miserably, "Can you take them both? Go on ahead, I'll catch up."

And there it is. That icy-hot feeling in my chest that makes me go numb. Tears spring to my eyes because this moment was never supposed to come. I never wanted her to have to act on her final sacrifice. We took a vow…but I never wanted her to honor it to the end.

"No, I can't carry them both. My arms aren't working."

Almost for proof, my right arm jerks violently and it feels like my hands around going to shake off. Katniss' face sinks. I choke and blink as the tears start coming more and I look at Mags, whose already looking at me with determination.

"I'm sorry, Mags. I can't do it."

My words bite worse than the acidic fog. She stands up, her tiny old frame looking straighter and more determined than ever. Then she plants a kiss firmly on my lips and leaps right into the fog. I can't watch it. I turn and duck my head, running from the fog.

_She wanted this. She knew she was going to sacrifice herself._

_But…Mags…_

The canon fires and I fight it back because I have to get out or it's all in vain. Katniss and Peeta must make it out. But I'm in agony. It feels like millions of white-hot iron needles stabbing my skin, my throat, my lungs. I'm breathing so heavily, working so hard. The mist is taking its toll. My mind is mud. It's spinning.

_Mags is dead, Mags is dead…_

I'm about to give up. The pain is too excruciating, too debilitating.

_Mags…_

Suddenly we come crashing through the trees and a rock hits my feet and it's all I can do. I collapse.

_I'm so sorry everybody. I'm so sorry. Good-bye._

There's a heavy weight on top of me and I can't breathe. I groan and some of it relinquishes. I wait for death when Katniss makes a sound.

_What?_

"It's stopped."

I look and it's true, almost as if it is hitting a glass wall. Relief is short lived when we realize there's hundreds of monkeys above us. My skin feels like its dissolving and my mind is fevered.

_Where am I?_

_Why doesn't anyone help me?_

We crawl and crawl down the slope, unable to walk.

_Where's Mags?_

Sand. My hands feel sand. And then fire.

I draw back from the sharp pain and fall down onto the beach, my world fading in and out of black.

My dreams are nothing but colors, screaming, and the feel of Mags' kiss.

Slowly I'm aware of a blazing sensation in my arms and legs. I moan to protest the pain, but it continues.

_Leave me alone. Why make my death more painful than it already is?_

More pain. I open my eyes, ready to meet the gaze of my torturer, when I see Peeta and Katniss above me. They look burnt, but then I realize my legs are in the water.

"It's okay Finnick," she says to me as they drag me further in. It burns horribly, but I'm feeling relief as well. The lower half of my body feels cleaner, calmer, less toxified.

_What's going on…_

Katniss lays my head in her lap and the rest of my soaks, neck down, in the water. Peeta is next to me, slowly improving.

_Help. They're helping me. It's okay._

I become aware I can use my arms again and lift them from the water. They feel so much better than before. But my brain is still fuzzy, my head is still poisoned.

"There's just your head left, Finnick," Peeta tells me gently, "That's the worst part, but you'll feel much better after, if you can bear it."

I nod and they sit me up.

_It's okay. You can do this._

I grip their hands and force my head under, glad my throat was too raw to scream. But they're right, it is better. After.

Pain. Everything is in pain including my heart, but the water is making everything clearer. I'm vaguely aware of Katniss by my side as I start to recover use of my whole body. The more I stay in the water, the better it is. I finally start swimming, gargling the water, snorting it, opening my eyes. After the pain, the relief is so worth it.

And suddenly I'm so glad to be in the water. Just like home. I imagine I'm with my friends and I'm with Annie and I swim and swim, disappearing under water for as long as I can hold my breath.

"Don't do that," Katniss scolds me. She's cut away her scrappy jumpsuit and now just sports her underclothes and her belt.

"What? Come up or stay under?"

_Ah ha, it's funny because she really doesn't know._

"Either. Niether. Whatever. Just soak in the water and behave…Or if you feel this good, let's go help Peeta."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

**Hour or so later, after the monkey attack and the Morphling's death.**

As Peeta manages to get the water going again, the full weight of Mags' death dawns on me. She was my family, and now she's gone.

We carry the water back and Katniss sighs. "Why don't you two get some rest? I'll watch for a while."

I swallow the knot in my throat and say, "No, Katniss, I'd rather."

She looks at me and I'm sure she knows I'm ready to crack. Thank goodness she has the good graces not to say anything. "Alright Finnick, thanks."

She goes and lies down next to Peeta. I turn my back to them and bite my lip until I hear their breath slow down to even intervals. Then I break.

The tears are endless. I try to be quiet so I don't wake them, but I couldn't help the throaty gasps. I bowed my head and laced my fingers through my hair, letting the sobs shake me.

_Mags I'm sorry. I'm sorry. You shouldn't have died like that._

Mags was like a mother to me whenever I needed her. In my first games she took Marina and I into her arms and let us cry on her until we were brave enough to keep walking forward. She filled up my evenings with dinner, stories, and comfort. Even as age took advantage of her I still saw her as my family, someone I love until the end. She never judged me for the happenings in the Capitol. She told me about her husband and her life. A life that now lay by the wayside, gone from the world but still leaving its deep mark on it.

I suck in a deep breath and then choke, the sobs wracking me so violently my body threatens to be sick. She's gone and a huge hole is left where she was. Marina is sitting next to me now, hugging her knees and facing me. I moan again and shake my head miserably.

"She's gone," I rasp, "Mags is d-dead, Marina."

Her eyes swell with sadness and pity. She reaches out and puts her hand on mine. "Don't cry," she says again, but her own tears start falling. I burry my face in my hands again and cry some more. After a while she is gone, and it's just me.

_Get it together Fin. Say good-bye._

I take a few steadying breaths and stand, ripping some grass from the jungle and weaving it into a quick, tight basket. Then I find some shells on the beach—the prettiest ones I can find—and line them up with the basket. I wipe my face on some of the moss before I get started, which just makes me think more of Mags and induce more tears.

_Thank you for comforting Marina, ten years ago._

I kiss the first shell and put it in the basket. Then I pick up the next.

_Thank you for guiding me through my games, making me a better person, and giving me the best advice I could ask for._

I kiss that shell and lay it down in the basket. I go on like this. I thank her for everything I can think of; her support after my father died, her company, her gentle way with Annie, her support, her sacrifice with Annie and again tonight, and most of all, her love.

When the basket contains all my shells, with all my memories, I walk it to the edge of the water and sit, watching it for a moment. Then I have a second thought and run to the forest, striking a quick fire with two stones and some brush. I carry it carefully over to the basket.

_Thank you Mags. I'm never going to forget you. I love you. _

I let the small fire fall on the basket as I set it carefully in the water, making sure it floats. Then with a gentle nudge, I send it out with the tide. Tears drip off my chin in streams and I wipe them away. Then, as the little boat drifts further away and the flames spread, I quietly sing her lullaby.

"_Out on the sea my love_

_There's a gray ship of shining glass_

_A white dove is sitting, singing_

_On the crystal mass_

_And out on the sea my love_

_The ship is sailing fast_

_Back home to the shore_

_Home my love at last."_

It's getting further away. Annie is by my side, holding onto me strongly, supporting me. She lays her head on my shoulder to tell me she's there in spirit, because she can't be there in the physical. She lets me know that my pain isn't going unnoticed, it isn't going alone. I'm not alone.

"_But 'til that day _

_The dove it comes it sails alone_

_Remembering the shore and land_

_How the breaking waves shone_

_It comes to sing its song_

_To tell us of its tale_

_The ship of glass is sailing fast_

_The wind is in its sail"_

Annie is gone, but I still feel her there. Her body is gone. She's not. I'm loved. I'm not alone and I'm loved. Mags loves me too.

"_So go to sleep and do not fear _

_For it glides on silver lining_

_The dove is coming for the shore_

_The ship it will be shining."_

The basket is consumed in the flames, a small fleck of light out on the dark water. My tears haven't stopped as I stand to watch it go out and disappear into the depths. Just before it does, I kiss my three fingers hold them up in a final salute, a good-bye. The light goes out and the water is black again. Like Mags life, blazing, shining, shimmering, then gone.

Gone, but not forgotten.


	35. Chapter 35

_hey guys, so here's this. but i am planning to do a few bonus scenes and would like to know what you guys want. I already have two in mind, but am thinking it'd be good to have one more. By that i mean things i didn't write that you really love and want to see of a small snippet from someone else's perspective like Johanna or Peeta. So brainstorm and message me about it! Enjoy this chapter, I love Johanna._

**35**

**Strength**

I spent the rest of my night making a grass roof over Katniss and Peeta to protect them from the sun. Then I made more baskets and collected all kinds of shellfish and dropped them into the baskets. I managed to stop the tears by the time Katniss joined me, but I'm willing to bet I looked like a wreck. She was kind enough not to say anything. Especially when she saw all the food I collected. It was good, like being home.

Then we were given a gift of medicine. Our scabs have become so unbearably itchy my mind threatens to snap. Katniss was coated in blood when she woke up from unconsciously scratching herself.

Now Katniss opens the tube and scowls as she sniffs it. I can smell the weird smell all the way from here. It smells like tar and some sharp, almost mint smell I've never experienced before. She globs the medicine into her hand and rubbing it in, a moan escaping her lips that draws me back for a second. Never before have I heard her make a sound so sexual, but it's one I've heard many times. She doesn't seem to notice or care, and keeps rubbing in the medicine. I grimace as her skin turns a putrid grayish green. She tosses the tube to me, but I continue to scowl.

"It's like you're decomposing," I say, watching as even her face turned the color of dry mucus. A particularly intense itching makes my foot twitch and I grab the tube, rubbing it over my skin. The relief is instantaneous and yes, just as pleasurable as Katniss' moan suggested. I close my eyes and soak it in, and then continue. Katniss and I coat each other, and the more I put on the more I realize how disgusting I look. I'm afraid my skin is going to just fall right off and leave me a pile of bone and muscle.

"Poor Finnick. Is this the first time in your life you haven't looked pretty?" Katniss teases, putting some ointment behind her ear. She looks like an rotten, marred fish discoloring in the sewer pools. I've seen such a thing, and I almost get sick thinking I look like that too. If there was any question of me being attracted to Katniss ever, it's now been defeated.

"It must be. The sensation's completely new. How have you managed all these years?" I return with a smirk.

"Just avoid mirrors, you'll forget about it."

I laugh and shake my head, "Not if I keep looking at you."

When we finish with ourselves, Katniss stands up and stretches. "I'm going to wake Peeta," she says.

_I can't imagine the shock he's going to get seeing her when he wakes up._

_Wait!_

"No, wait," I whisper confidentially, "Let's do it together. Put our faces right in front of his."

Katniss grins devilishly and says, "We're probably going to get punched…."

"Worth it," I smile back.

She nods and irrational excitement fills me up as we position ourselves on either side of Peeta and lean in until we're only inches from his face. Katniss calls out in a soft, loving, sing-song voice; "Peetaaa. Peeta, wake UUuup."

Peacefully, serenely, his eyelids flutter open and then his face turns to horrified shock and he cringes away from us. "AH!"

I'm consumed with laughter as Katniss and I topple over, laughing harder every time we got a look at his indignant face. It was all just so funny and perfect. Katniss is looking at me with newfound appreciation, and I can see I've won a part of her over.

_Well, took you long enough Kat._

Truth is I like her too. She's tough, a touch oblivious or ignorant of things to do with love, and a little proud, but she's also compassionate, sacrificing, and funny. I can see the person she is when the cameras aren't around, and I like her. But could never _love_ her, not the way Peeta does. Annie fills in the cracks that Katniss seems to be coated with. Annie is openly compassionate, understanding, unassuming. She's not proud, nor is she self-defeating. Annie knows who she is and knows the parts of her that can improve. And she works on them. She's open with her love and gives it freely. Katniss barely seems to understand love at all, while Annie has known all her life what it is and embraces it. And like Katniss, Annie would sacrifice herself if she needed to. Now if only she could have Everdeen's thick skin and she'd probably be the face of the revolution instead. But maybe I'm biased.

Nevertheless, Katniss is a strong girl, a good friend, and now the face of the revolution. A face I'm desperately trying to keep alive no matter how bent she is on killing it to save Peeta. Another guy I need to save to make everyone happy.

A parachute lands and contains a loaf of bread from District Four. I snatch it up and examine it, searching for any messages Haymitch, Tristan, or Plutarch may have left on the crust. I remember what Haymitch said the night before I left.

"We're going to communicate with you through the bread we send," he said, "the district it comes from will be the day. The amount, the hour. So I suggest you familiarize yourself with the different kinds."

This is from my District, so day four. I have to keep these two alive for three more days including this one. The hour…one? There's only one loaf…so it has to mean they're coming at one in the morning. That begs the question, are they coming at one am the fourth day in the morning? Or the night of the fourth day at 1 am…which would technically make it a fifth day so it must be the morning of the fourth. So I have to keep these two alive for only two days. I think I can do that…maybe…

I feel Katniss and Peeta staring at me and finally say, "This will go well with shell fish."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

We're eating when Katniss stops and whispers, very stiffly, "There."

We look to see three figures stumbling to the beach. Immediately we melt into the cover of the jungle, watching them as they struggle.

_Why are they all red?_

"Who is that?" Peeta asks, "Or what? Muttations?"

Katniss knocks an arrow and pulls it back, ready to strike. But I don't want her too. They seem to be in rough shape. One of them is literally dragging the other. And then I see it. The dragger turns around and shoves the spinning one down.

_Finally!_

"Johanna!" I shout with joy, taking off for them.

"Finnick!" she replies, sounding both excited and relieved. I put the distance behind me and crash into her, pulling her up into a hug she probably isn't accustom to getting. But when I pull away she's at least smiling under her disgusting red coat.

"What the hell happened to you?" she asks, swiping a finger over my green-gray skin.

"Poison mist. The ointment we were sent makes us look like this. Where's Blight? And what _is_ this stuff all over you?"

_Blood. It smells like blood._

"We thought it was rain, you know, because of the lightning, and we were all so thirsty. But when it started coming down, it turned out to be blood. Thick, hot blood. You couldn't see, you couldn't speak without getting a mouthful. We just staggered around, trying to get out of it. That's when Blight hit the force field.

_Oh no..._

"I'm sorry Johanna," I say sincerely. She never shows when things hurt her, but I know that it did. Blight; skinny and blonde, always trying to cover other's misery with humor. I genuinely am going to miss him, we could have used his positivity on this escapade.

"Yeah, well, he wasn't much, but he was from home," is her only tribute to him before she adds, "And he left me alone with these two." I look down at a barely alive Beetee as Johanna nudges him with her foot. "He got a knife to the back at the Cornucopia. And her—"

"Tick tock. Tick tock." Wiress can't seem to stop circling, murmuring her little phrase. It's frightening really. Johanna just rolls her eyes.

"Yeah, we know. Tick tock. Nuts is in shock." Wiress crashes into her, recognizing the attention, but Johanna shoves her harshly. "Just stay down, will you?"

Katniss, who appeared with Peeta sometime during Johanna's story, growls, "Lay off her."

_Mistake, Katniss. _

Johanna's eyes narrow and I sense trouble. "Lay off her?" she hisses, reminding me of a combination of Viper and Celeste. Except Johanna has her own style. She steps forward and slaps Katniss so hard, _I _feel it. "Who do you think got them out of that bleeding jungle for you? You—"

_Okay, time to go._

I toss Johanna over my shoulder—difficult with the amount of writhing she is doing—and carry her over to the water.

"You little _bitch!" _Johanna shrieks at Katniss, pounding her fists into my back.

"You gotta calm down," I urge her.

"I'M GOING TO RIP YOUR THROAT OUT, YOU UNGRATEFUL LITTLE—"

I dunk her head into the water and pull her up. She continues to hurl insults as I repeatedly force her head underwater.

"ALL YOU ARE IS A SLU—YOU SCRAWNY GIT! YOU WAIT—AS SOON AS I GET MY HANDS ON—YOU'RE A HAIRY SKANK WHO DOESN'T KNOW—THE ONLY REASON YOU'RE ALIVE IS BECAUSE YOU GO ON CAMERAS AND LITERALLY FU—"

"It's okay, _Johanna!,_ it's okay…" I tell her, not stopping the soaking until Katniss and Peeta are gone and she simmers. The other four move back to the camp while Johanna wipes the salt water from her eyes and shakes her head. I pat her back while she sputters a few more words of hate.

"I worked my ass off and that skinny little twit has the nerve to tell me what to do. What did she have to do this whole time? Lay around and act pregnant? Screw with her little lover boy for food?"

"I know, I know. It's okay now you got them here."

She takes a deep breath and steadies herself, then splashes my face with water. "You didn't have to _drown_ me you asshole."

I smile and shrug, "I sort of had to. She's really not that bad, you know. And Peeta's just like he is on the television."

"I don't care. I still hate her."

"Fair enough."

"Did you get any other gifts from the loving sponsors?" Johanna asks casually, but I know what she's asking. _Did you get any bread?_

"We got a loaf of District Four bread," I say casually enough so it's not suspicious. She gets the message. "And a spile for water."

She nods. "How generous of them. We got jack."

I give her an apologetic smile then say, "It's good to see you alive, Johanna."

She smiles tightly and says, "I appreciate the sentiment. Good to see you alive too, even if you do look like you stepped out of a science lab."

She stands and strips off her jumpsuit, discarding the blood-stained thing on the beach and stepping into the water. "Help me get this out of my hair?" she asks. I grin and force her head underwater, this time roughly scrubbing her hair with my fingers. She flails around until her head comes up. "Oh, you are going _down_ Golden Boy."

I'm pulled under the waves by Johanna's hands and almost choke because I'm laughing. At least she's getting clean, anyway.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

I lay down to sleep, a little worried that Katniss and Johanna will kill each other. Instead they sit and I hear part of their conversation. "How'd you lose Mags?"

_Well, it seems she figured out we're one short._

"In the fog. Finnick had Peeta. I had Mags for a while. Then I couldn't lift her. Finnick said he couldn't take them both. She kissed him and walked right into the poison."

So there it is. The story summed up. It stings.

"She was Finnick's mentor, you know," Johanna says accusingly.

_Take it easy on her Johanna, please._

"No, I didn't."

Strange, I forgot how little Katniss actually knows about me. Or Mags.

"She was half his family," Johanna says, less accusing than before. Of course she'd know that. We've talked at the meetings before. We talked on the roof that one night where she told me about everyone she lost after her victory. And now it seems I've won a rare piece of Johanna's compassion. That, or Mags. All the same, it's special.

Eventually Wiress rejoins them and Johanna dismisses herself, plopping down next to me. I open my eyes and blink at her. She blinks back and me and then takes my hand, lays our closed fists between our faces, and burrows her head down to sleep.

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

Queerest games I've ever seen.

"Something's going on," I whisper, watching Johanna and Finnick fall asleep. Such strange alliances. Such strange disregard for betrayal from an alliance member in the middle of the night.

The loss of Mags is one that kills me. She sacrificed herself for me, and then again for another. I don't know why she'd do it for Peeta, or why Finnick wouldn't save her instead, but he did. And now she's gone. She was the closest thing I had to a grandmother. I think Pearl may have even cried for her.

"Are you okay, Aunt Annie?" Kai asks innocently from his spot on the floor. I look at him and nod.

"I'm fine, honey."

He drops his toy and crawls up onto my lap, nuzzling into my shoulder.

"Can you sing me a song?" he asks as I wrap my arms around him. I sigh and start rocking the chair gently. I stroke his messy brown hair and kiss the top of his sweet little head.

I decide on Mags lullaby, tears springing to my eyes.

"_Out on the sea my love_

_There's a gray ship of shining glass_

_A white dove is sitting, singing_

_On the crystal mass_

_And out on the sea my love_

_The ship is sailing fast_

_Back home to the shore_

_Home my love at last."_

Kai has fallen asleep against my chest, I could feel his breath on my skin. Slowly, so as not to wake him, I wipe away my tears and look sharply across the room at Mags, standing there with her old bony frame surrounded in a white, misty fog.

"Mags."

She blinks back at me and sings my song.

_Scream scream scream, it's all a bad dream_

"_Where is Troy? Poor Troy is dead_

_His body left without his head_

_Hide hide hide, you can't go outside_

_The monster is waiting to chopper off his head_

_Then he'll be like Troy, dead dead dead._

_No more thud, no more blood."_

My body starts to shake and I take a breath to calm myself, even though I know that it won't work.

"I'm the dove," Mags says, "Marina's the dove. You're the dove. I'm not coming home, my love. I'm with my love. I'm not coming home."

I stare back at her. "Is Finnick coming home, Mags?"

She just says, "Finnick loves doves."

I try again. "Is Finnick coming home?"

She walks forward and kisses the top of my head.

"Good-bye, honey."

I shudder and then look down at the sleeping Kai and all the wind leaves my sails. Mags is gone, my nerves have settled, and the swirling darkness leaves the corners of my mind. The innocence in my arms keeps me sane. It gives me strength.

"_So go to sleep and do not fear _

_For it glides on silver lining_

_The dove is coming for the shore_

_The ship it will be shining."_


	36. Chapter 36

_Again, sorry this took so long. It skips a lot just a warning. Happy reading!_**  
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**36**

**The Birds and the Rescue**

We just have to keep them alive long enough to get out of here. That's all.

"Katniss, got that spile?" I ask while admiring the hole I made in the tree. She starts at the sound of my voice and then struggles to remove the spile from her belt and holds it out for me. I'm about to take it when a blood-curdling scream cuts across the air and Katniss's face goes white. She drops the spile and takes off toward the source of the screaming.

_Who IS that?_

"Katniss, wait! Stop!" I shout after her. What is going on? Is that another tribute screaming? She sounds young…but Katniss seems to care about her enough to go charging through the dangerous jungle on her own.

_Finnick, they are going to find her._

Now I'm scared. I chase after her, listening to her voice as it screams some name a vaguely recognize. I'm lost in a maze of trees and brambles that whip the irritations all over my skin. My leg still hurts from the attack at the Cornucopia and it's making my trip more than I'm used to. And suddenly she goes silent. No more crashing through the trees, no more screaming. There's a whistling sound and then a thud as something tumbles to the ground.

No. No no no no no no no.

I run for where I last heard her until I crash through the opening.

"Katniss?" I exclaim, seeing her sitting on the ground. She looks up at me with a sick look on her face and just says, "I'm okay, I'm okay."

I stop to observe her when I hear it. The one sound that could freeze my blood instantly.

_Annie._

She's screaming. She's here. They've taken her.

"ANNIE!"

_They're hurting her. She's screaming because she's being tortured. And it's your fault. They've kidnapped her and now she's suffering._

The sound of it is unbearable. It's the same scream she emitted when she was called again for the reaping this year. It pierces my mind, I can barely see. This is what Annie must've felt like when she saw Troy lose his head. When it was waved in her face. I'm going mad.

I conquer the distance between me and Annie's voice in seconds. Finally I pin it, it's above me. In the tree.

_Get her, save Annie. Save her._

_Scream scream scream, it's all a bad dream._

I try to climb the trunk but there's no branches and I cant maneuver my body to shimmy up the rubbery trunk. The moisture makes me slide right off again.

"Annie!" I shout, feeling panic rising inside of me. "Annie! Annie! Annie!"

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

"FINNICK I'M RIGHT HERE!" I scream at the television, standing on my feet. That's my voice in the forest, but I'm here. I'm in our living room, aren't I?

He's in a state of panic. And while I'm touched that he cares so much, I'm also furious. Furious at the Capitol for their trick. Furious at Finnick for putting himself in such a dangerous position. I'm not screaming, I'm here. I'm almost sure of it.

Katniss comes into the scene and scales the tree, shooting down the bird. When Finnick takes it in his hands I see his heart break all over his face.

"What, what's wrong?"

_He can't hear you, stupid._

"It's alright Finnick. It's just a jabberjay." Katniss is rubbing his shoulder comfortingly, though she herself didn't look in much of a state to be comforting anyone. "They're playing a trick on us. It's not real. It's not your…Annie."

"No, it's not Annie," Finnick response with a haunted voice, "But the voice was hers. Jabberjays mimic what they hear. Where did they get those screams, Katniss?"

Her face goes white as a sheet. "Oh Finnick you don't think they…"

"Yes. I do. That's exactly what I think."

Finnick thinks they're torturing me. He thinks that they have me. No doubt he's blaming himself.

"I'm right here," I almost beg, resting my hand on his pixelated face, "I'm okay. I'm right here." I can't imagine how he must feel. If I thought that they had Finnick and was torturing him to get to me. I'd break. I would be on the floor screaming with him.

"Finnick, please, I'm right here."

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

After running into the wall, the pain in my nose only hastens my disintegration. Johanna clenches her jaw and swings her axe at the wall, but it stays put. They can't get through. We can't get out. The birds continue to grow in numbers and I hear new screams. My friends, Martin, Mags, Tristan, Echo, Pearl, Stephen, even Kai. Even my mother. And louder than anyone, Annie.

_Get a hold of yourself or you're going to lose it._

I fall to the ground and slam my hands over my ears, willing my palms to crush my skull in so I can just die. I try not to think. I try not to imagine all the awful things they did to them to make those screams happen. I try not to think about it and think of nothing else until it finally stops and I feel Johanna's hands on my back.

"Finnick, it's okay. They're gone."

I don't answer. I can hear Peeta talking to Katniss, hugging her. I am suddenly a little jealous, if only because at least the boy she loves—or is should love at least—is here. Here and not there. I rather Annie be dead than tortured, like what Pearl said long before. Kill her before they destroy her. I should have listened. Now she's probably in such indescribable agony in her body and mind there's no going back. There's not going to be healing this time.

"Katniss, Prim isn't dead. How could they kill Prim? We're almost down to the final eight of us. And what happens then?" I hear Peeta say. I decide to listen, maybe he can help. His voice is the only thing keeping me anchored down, anyway.

"Seven more of us die," she responds miserably. I let out a quick laugh just to show I agree not because anything is funny.

"No back home. What happens when they reach the final eight tributes in the Games?"

_What is he saying?_

He tries again, lifting her chin so that she has to look at him. "What happens? At the final eight?"

She answers this time. "At the final eight? They interview your family and friends back home."

A rush whooshes through me. Maybe it's possible then. Maybe it was all a trick.

"That's right. They interview your family and friends. And can they do that if they've killed them all?"

"No?" Katniss says, but I mouth the word with her. No, they can't I guess….

"No. That's how we know Prim's alive. She'll be the first one they interview, wont she?"

Peeta continues trying to relax her and I'm feeling myself begin to relax. More like cling to this shred of hope that is Peeta's words. Maybe she isn't gone.

Finally Katniss looks at me for confirmation. "Do you believe it, Finnick?"

"It could be true," I answer, my voice sounding weird in my own ears, "I don't know. Could they do that Beetee? Take someone's regular voice and make it…"

"Oh, yes. It's not even that difficult Finnick. Our children learn a similar technique in school." Beetee is beside me with Johanna, a hand on my other shoulder.

_It makes sense Fin. They used Mags in there, and she was with you. They didn't torture her._

"Of course Peeta's right," Johanna says, "The whole country adores Katniss's little sister. IF they really killed her like this, they'd probably have an uprising on their hands."

"Johanna…"

"Don't want that, do they?" she begins to shout, "Whole country in rebellion? Wouldn't want anything like that!"

"Johanna!" I hiss, giving her a look. "Get a grip!"

She deflates but I can tell she doesn't regret it. She's got guts, my Johanna. But I can't help but think of what will happen to her David back home.

"I'm getting water," she says finally, starting for the jungle. Katniss reaches out and grabs her hand.

"Don't go in there. The birds…"

"They can't hurt me. I'm not like the rest of you. There's no one left I love."

She shakes herself loose and disappears to sap the tree. Suddenly I'm scared and confused. No one left she loves? But…David…

I take to the water to clear my head. I need to be alone, I need to sort out my thoughts. The water is home and I know I can find some peace there. Maybe the salt water can heal my ears and stop all those screams from resounding in my skull.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"Johanna, what did you mean back there?" I ask when we finally are alone. She hasn't spoken since the birds and the sun is beginning to set.

"About what?"

"No one being left."

She stops and takes a deep breath and then looks at me full on. Of course she can't say. We're on camera, there's nothing private. Nothing secret. She just exchanges a long look with me that says everything, that says she screwed up again, that says her mouth got away with her. In the physical, she just says, "David is dead now too. He died as I was entering the arena."

I want to ask all sorts of questions. Does she mean as she was in the tube going up and she witnessed it? Or before she left her district? And why? But it's not the time, and it's not my story to know unless she wants me to. All I do is press my forehead against hers and kiss her cheek before going off to weave another basket to store tonight's catch in.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

District Three bread. The third day now. Twenty-four rolls. The twenty-forth hour. Beetee and Johanna do a stand up job of not letting on, though I think maybe I seem a little possessive.

It's almost over. Twenty-four hours.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"Finnick," Annie whispers, shaking my shoulder. I wake up on the beach in the arena, but I look up and see Annie. But she's beaten. There's bruises over her eyes and face and she wears nothing but a thin white gown. There's a violent looking IV in her arm that makes me cringe.

"Annie," I gasp, sitting up. I place my hand on her cheek but she winces and I put it down. "What happened?" I ask, looking over all her wounds.

"You already know," she answers with her big green eyes transfixed on me.

"No…" I say in disbelief, "Peeta and Beetee said it was a trick."

She frowns and backs away, "Does this look like a trick? I'm here. I'm right here."

Now the sick feeling I rising in my chest again. She leans forward and kisses me, placing both of her broken hands on either side of my face. I kiss her back, afraid to hurt her if I touch her. "I'm right here," she repeats. I nod and kiss her lightly on the tip of her lightly freckled nose. Then she looks down and feels the alliance bracelet Haymitch gave me.

"Where's your bracelet?" she asks in a broken voice, "Where's your shells?"

Tears are in her eyes as she stares at the spot where our bracelet used to be. I try to placate her before it can escalate. "Annie, I had to. I can't explain it right now but l had to leave it behind."

"You don't love me anymore," she whimpers, running her fingers up and down my wrist. I grab her hand and force her to look me in the eyes.

"Stay here Annie, stay with me. I love you. You know that. Now stay here on the ground. Don't get upset."

She shakes her head, splashing tears on my arms. "I don't understand," she moans, "I was tortured for you. I tried so hard…"

"Annie! Don't go there just stay here."

She looks at me as if for the first time, and I draw back from the fear and anger in her eyes. Then slowly, silently, she seems to unhinge her jaw and open her mouth into a massive black hole and lets out the coldest scream yet, like an orchestra of all her screams from the jabberjays. I slam my hands over my ears until suddenly I'm jolted awake by the clap of thunder.

_No more sleeping, it doesn't help._

I stumble up and rub my eyes, "I can't sleep anymore. One of you should rest." When I open my eyes I feel the blood rush to my cheeks, seeing Katniss on top of Peeta in a rather intimate knot.

"Or both of you. I can watch alone."

While Peeta is doing a good job of hiding his disappointment, a switch goes off in Katniss's eyes and I know she's embarrassed.

_Nothing I haven't seen before, sweetheart._

"It's too dangerous," Peeta reasons, gently sliding out from underneath her, "I'm not tired. You lie down, Katniss."

I take my seat on the beach and allow the two of them to have their private moment for the cameras. Or for themselves. What do I know nowadays, anyway?

Once they're done Peeta joins me on the beach and sits down, letting out a deep breath. "Hey," I whisper so nobody wakes up, "the water there is pretty cold if you need to take a dip."

Peeta throws back his head and laughs, punching me in the arm. I laugh too but keep going, "I'm serious! It works like a charm." He shakes his head and presses his lips together to stop from laughing.

"I'm good for now, but I'll keep that in mind, thanks."

Once we've settled down I decide it's time for some sponsor chit chat. "Sooo, you're gonna be a dad, huh?"

Peeta purses his lips and nods, looking really broken up but from deep inside, not immediately on the outside. The good stuff. The soft gooey center all those watching are looking for.

_Damn he's good._

"Are you ready for that sort of responsibility?"

He sighs and looks at me. "Finnick, it doesn't matter. Only one of us, if either of us, is going to be able to make it out of the arena alive. We can keep playing around and bonding but sooner or later we're going to have to realize this isn't going to have a happy ending."

_Oh yeah, you don't know we're trying to get everyone out._

"I guess," is all I can manage to say.

"What do you mean, 'you guess'?"

"It means," I try again, giving the cameras my best ponderful look, "that it hasn't quite hit me. I don't think it ever will until something _literally_ hits me. I'm just numb to it I guess. I'll face the end when it comes, I'm not going to let it control me in the meantime."

Peeta nods and pretends to chew on my speech, or maybe he is really affected by it. I have to keep reminding myself he's completely in the dark.

We talk a little bit more, mostly about Katniss and how he fell in love, yadda yadda. It works to our advantage because when Johanna, Katniss, and Beetee wake up, we're sent another package of bread that confirms the time and date. Today. On the twenty-forth hour. I watch Beetee run a nervous hand over his head before slapping his poker face back on.

_Please let Annie be in the ship. Please have her be on the other side of this mess._

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

**Later that day, after Beetee and the group make their plan for the lightning tree and the wire. Beetee needs to work with the wire so he gives the rest of them an 'afternoon off'.**

Peeta and Katniss are spending a lot of time diving for oysters. I take my trident and spear a couple of fish easily, relishing how bright their scales are. These are not natural fish, these are the kinds of fish I see in the tank in the Capitol building back in Four. I just hope they taste as good as they look.

Peeta cracks open a shell and makes a happy sound. "Hey, look at this!" He holds up a small round pearl and earnestly tells me, "You know, if you put enough pressure on coal it turns to pearls."

"No it doesn't," I say dismissively. I thought he was being naive at first but then Katniss cracks up and I realize it must be some kind of joke. Johanna catches my eye and shrugs, popping an oyster in her mouth.

"For you," Peeta says, holding out the pearl for Katniss. She takes it and suddenly the wind leaves their sails and all signs of laughter disappear. "My locket didn't work, did it?"

She keeps his gaze. "It worked."

"But not the way I was hoping."

After that awkward encounter, Peeta just focuses on seafood and Johanna and I are left completely in the dark. Doesn't matter anyway, by midnight tonight we'll all be dead or rescued. The thought of that makes my heart thud heavily against my chest.

_Thud thud thud._

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Help Beetee set up the wire. Watch Peeta. Listen for Johanna and Katniss to make sure they're safe. Keep them alive. Keep them alive until they are rescued. Then I'm free. I'm free to die or to be rescued. The air is charged with the adrenaline as our plan starts to lay out tracks.

"I don't like this, I want to go with them," Peeta complains after Johanna and Katniss leave with the wire. I watch them go and catch Johanna's eye once, giving her a deep nod just incase this doesn't work. Just incase she begins to forget I'm on her side.

I really don't understand the deeper plot in this other than Haymitch and Heavensbee worked it out with Beetee and it's going to help get us rescued. Peeta and I do what we can, trying to stay calm as the girls roam out into the jungle where all the true danger lies.

"Twist it," Beetee instructs like a mildly impatient teacher, "Like this. Yes, good."

Peeta steals so many glances at the forest I begin to worry about the effects it will have on his neck. It's simple really. Unravel the wire to the ocean. Drop it in. Get away. What can go wrong, really? Especially with such a fearsome pair of young women with so much desire to succeed…

"Now get out of here, before the lightning strikes," Beetee orders us, not even looking up from his wire. I'm hesitant just to leave him unprotected with suddenly the wire goes slack and all signs of movement on the other end disappear. Panic rises in my throat but my instincts calm me down.

"Maybe they're done?" I suggest, giving the wire a yank to confirm it. But when I do, the other end bunches up and snakes towards us in a springy spiral until we see the tip of it shining in the moonlight. The wires been cut.

"Katniss!" Peeta cries out in horror. He's about to take off shouting when I grab his arm and hold him still.

"Peeta, you'll get yourself killed—"

He turns on me and knocks me to the ground with a solid punch to the jaw. "You planned this!" he accuses, betrayal playing shadows on his face, "You and Johanna planned to kill her all along!"

"No—" I'm unable to say anything more because he kicks me in the jaw and takes off crashing through the trees. I rub the spot to see if there's a break and then focus on Beetee who's hands are flying and who's lips are mumbling a steady stream of profanity and scientific mumbo jumbo I know nothing about. "Beetee, what's going on? This isn't part of the plan, right?"

He takes a second to look at me with dark eyes. "No. Katniss and Johanna are in trouble. Go help them. Quickly. Or this is all for not."

So we're just saying it out loud now?

The truth of the danger sets in and I think about finding Johanna and Katniss's cold lifeless bodies in the jungle and suddenly find myself brandishing my trident and starting for the trees. But then there's a sharp zapping sound and a flash of light that stands my hair on end. I turn around to find Beetee on the ground with a wire-wrapped knife by his hand. I run to his side and check for a pulse and breathing. He has both, but barely. He must have tried to run the knife into the force-field while still holding it. I don't have time to help him either.

"I'm sorry Beetee," I whisper before plunging the end of his knife into his forearm and digging out the tracking device. I take a deep breath to steady myself and then do the same thing to me. I remember Haymitch and Heavenbee's words; _When the time arrives, cut out the tracking devices. Knock them out if you have to. We can't have the capitol following our tails._

It's excruciating but the adrenaline helps me ignore it. When the sight of the little device in a bloody pool confirms I'm free, I pick up my trident and run off into the jungle.

_Just find her. Save Katniss, above everybody else. She's the key._

My heart is thudding in my ears as I whip past the forest as quickly and silently as I can, following the path of the wire. If they were attacked they couldn't have gotten far from that. Finally I stumble into a section where the plants have been ripped and flattened. When I examine it closer, I see that red blood stains the leaves and grass around the entire area. Not just a little blood either. My own trickles down my arm to join the rest of it. The sight of it sends me into a panic. None of this is going as planned. It's wrong, all wrong.

"Johanna!" I shout, praying that she's still alive, "Katniss!"

Let the Careers come, I'll take anyone. When no one answers I take the broken up path leading from the bloody site. I run until I hear a moan that brings me up short.

"Johanna?" I whisper, looking around. I see the edge of something that looks like a shoulder through the leaves and run to it. Johanna is laying there in a heap, blood gushing from a wound on her head and ribs. "Johanna! Who did this? What's going on?"

She looks at me with set eyes and actually finds the strength to shove me over. "You need to go. Someone cut the wire. I cut out Everdeen's tracking device. Enobaria and Brutus just split up. They were fighting me but they heard Peeta so Brutus took off. You need to go help him or she's going to be useless."

"But Jo—"

"Go!"

I take an anxious look at the jungle then hear shouting. "I'll come back for you," I say quickly, "I promise." She waves me away as I run towards the noise. I just make it through the clearing again when I hear the canon. Who is it? Who's dead?

"KATNISS!" I scream, "PEETA!"

No answer. Could I be Johanna? Did she die in those few seconds between me seeing her and me leaving? Could it be Chaff? Our secret and unspoken ally in the shadows? Beetee?

Enobaria emerges from the cover of the plants and lunges for me, looking almost rabid.

"Get off!" I bark, shoving her down. She makes a sound like some sort of angry wildcat and buries her dagger into the back of my leg, causing me to cry out. The second the blade left I felt the blood begin to warm my heel. And then she's gone, as if she was never there.

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

I bite my lip as I and the rest of Panem watch the most bizarre, confusing, and chaotic games finale takes place before us. Peeta comes on screen, shouting for Katniss.

"Show me Finnick!" I demand. Almost instantly, because there was so much action to be seen, a little box covering him and one covering Katniss appear in the corners of Peeta's full screen. He trips and in an instant, Brutus is crashing through the trees with an axe raised above his head. Peeta dodges it, but just barely. Finnick is now talking to a barely conscious Johanna. Brutus is about to come down with another lethal hit when Chaff springs from the shadows and blocks it with a thick branch.

"You," Brutus growls, recognizing the phantom of a man who gave them such hell in these games.

"Run, Peeta," Chaff says quickly over his shoulder. It's as he is turning his head back around that he loses it. Brutus's axe cuts cleanly through his neck and then finds a home in his back. The canon fires to confirm his death.

Peeta looks horrified and in an instant he's on his feet. Brutus uses his fists to rain on Peeta until the baker boy suddenly finds someway to get him in a headlock. Brutus's face turns a dark shade of purple until he breaks free, gasping for air. That's when Peeta's knife lands in his heart. The second canon fires and Peeta is off in the jungle again.

I shake my head, trying to comprehend all the chaos at once. The whole time I just keep thinking, B_ring him home. Please just bring him home._

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

Next thing I hear is the sound of Katniss's voice form the top of the section, shouting, "I'm here! I'm right here!" Trap or not, I run for it because I know the others will too. I have no idea who just died, but at least I know now it's not her.

I hear two more things as I'm running for her. I hear Peeta's answering cries, at first ahead of me now behind me, and the sound of someone else running. If it's not Peeta, not Johanna, it's got to be a Career unless Chaff has survived.

_This is so messed up._

When I reach the clearing with the lightning tree, I see a battered and bloody Katniss with her bow. I see Enobaria emerge beside me. Then I see Katniss release an arrow, the lightning strike, and then…

Blazing white, searing, agonizing explosion.

I find myself pressed against the dirt, unable to move or speak.

_What just happened?_

I can't hear anything but a high-pitches buzzing that hurts my ears. I can barely see anything through the dust, dirt, and falling debris.

I realize Katniss must have broken the force field with Beetee's knife. But is she alive? Where's Johanna? Where's Peeta? I need to get them, I need to save them.

But I can't, because I can't move.

I'm dizzy. I'm confused. And something smells like it's burning.

_I think that's me…_

Then a hovercraft appears above us and scoops Katniss up in its claw. Then Beetee. And then me. My head falls back limp overhanging the edge of it.

But…Johanna….Peeta…

And then all I know is black.


	37. Chapter 37

_Hey guys, i'm really sorry there's such a delay between chapters. it's just really difficult to find all the time i want to work on this. This story is up to 57,536 views! I can't even believe that, thanks so much for all your support guys. Happy Reading!_

**37**

**Scrape**

The explosion on the screen was so bright that I actually had to shield my eyes. And then suddenly it was black. At first I thought it was just the television screen that went dark, when I realized all the lights in my house had gone out as well. A cold chill runs up my spine now as I stand and turn around to face the darkness.

"Hello?" I whisper, slowly making my way to the drawer with the candles and matches. "Is anybody there?"

_Relax Annie, these things happen. Power outages happen all the time…_

_But honestly. What _was_ that?_

_Is Finnick okay?_

I blink a few times to get my eyes to adjust to the darkness. I try not to let its claws sink into my mind, but it's difficult. The unknown of the dark glowers at me as I walk through it, its breath creeping under my skin.

_Relax._

I take another step forward when the floor creaks so loudly it sounds like a gunshot. I freeze, glancing around to see of the noise caused a stir in the shadows. Nothing is there. Of course. There's no such thing as monsters, Finnick told me so.

I take another step and this time there is no sound and still no movement in the room. I don't know what I'm expecting honestly.

And then suddenly the door opens downstairs and four sets of footsteps come into the living area. My blood turns to ice and my head spins.

_Breathe. Think. _

_What on earth is going on?_

A knot catches in my throat on my subconscious answers my question for me.

_The monsters are coming._

I fly as quickly and quietly as I can to the wardrobe to hide. Maybe people always think to check there, but there's a chest inside with a big secret. It's very deep and extends about a foot below the floor level. It looks like it can be removed form the wardrobe but it can't. Fin said people could maybe use it to hide valuable things. I'm a valuable thing I think, so I climb inside the chest. Even though I can't breath, even through my knees are pressed against my neck, I hide.

My eyes find a spider web and I stare at it, trying to stay silent and calm as the footsteps spread out through the house like cockroaches in the light. I can smell the dust and the leather of the chest lining. I can hear and feel my heart pounding.

_THUD. THUD. THUD._

I want to cry and scream, but my fear keeps me silent. I focus on trying to breath what little air I have. It's so dark.

I listen as a pair of heavily booted footsteps enter the room and my breath catches in my chest. He walks slowly into the empty space, moves the drawers around in my dresser. He goes over to my bed and probably checks underneath. When nothing is found I hear him tear off the mattress and throw it against the wall.

_Leave. Please leave._

I remember the 'Sandy Monster' from my games. I remember how I saw her take a torch to my house when she was never really there. I saw the footage and only then did I believe it. Maybe none of this is actually happening?

I hear the door of the wardrobe open. I will him not to see the chest, to think it's too small. I shut my eyes and whisper my prayer over and over again. I hear him begin to back out and I let out a very quiet sigh of relief.

"Wait a minute," the man says to himself. Before I have time to blink, before I have time to scream, the lid of the chest is open and I'm revealed.

"I GOT'ER!" he shouted behind him.

"NO!" I squeak, my body still recovering from the jolt. He grabs my hair and arm and hoists me up over his shoulder. I kick, I scream. He doesn't let go; in fact, his fingers just burrow deeper into me.

"YOU'RE HURTING ME LET GO!"

But he didn't. The others came in their white rubbery skins and black eyes. They came to gather me up and shut me in the darkness. I screamed and cried and broke things. They put a cloth over my mouth that smelled like rain and made me dizzy. I fought the monsters, but the monsters still took me anyway.

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

"You've been through a lot Finnick, you should get some rest," Plutarch tells me. I shake my head and sink into the chair because my legs won't hold me anymore. My ears are still ringing and it feels like my body got slammed against a wall over and over and…

There's only one thing I have to do. There's only one thing I have to do before I can get some rest. I don't know when I woke up and I don't know who were in those other beds in the hospital room. But I know I'm alive. I'm…

"Tell me," I say, making a note of how raspy my voice is. Haymitch and Plutarch look at each other and I'm forced to say it again. "Tell me."

Heavensbee doesn't seem to understand what I meant. Annie, I was talking about Annie. But he answers me differently. "We managed to save Katniss. And Beetee as well as yourself. Johanna, Peeta, and Enobaria were all taken by the Capitol. We tried our best Finnick, but they were much faster than we anticipated. I'm sorry."

_Oh no, Johanna…_

When I don't answer, he continues. "Chaos broke out after the force field was destroyed. It's an all out war. Those who are against the Captiol are being slaughtered left and right, yet the districts have managed to gain some victories over the past few days. We need to get to Thirteen before they kill us for our involvement. A lot of supplies is down in the districts though, especially food. Umm…let me think, what else Haymitch? Ah. Two is allied with the Capitol indefinitely. Communications are down in Seven, Ten, and Twelve. But Eleven has control of transportation now, so there's at least a hope of them getting some food out."

Transportation. Yes. I could go to Annie. I could get her myself before we're locked away in Thirteen.

"Can I go home to get Annie then?"

Plutarch sighs and gives me a sympathetic look. "No, I'm sorry. There's no way I can get you to Four. But I've given special orders for her retrieval if possible. It's the best I can do, Finnick."

_If possible. If they haven't already taken her._

"They just want to get to me," I croak in my hoarse voice, "So how about I just die? I'll hand myself over and let them kill me. Or I'll do it myself..."

Haymitch cuts me off. "Don't be stupid. That's the worst thing you could do. As long as _you're _alive, they'll keep _her_ alive as bait."

Suddenly Katniss comes bursting in looking half mad in her hospital gown and wild bedhead. Haymitch has a half-amused grimace just for her. "Done knocking yourself out, sweetheart?" She careens forward when he catches her wrists. He notices something. "So it's you and a syringe against the Capitol? See, this is why no one lets you make the plans." She blinks at him and he gives her a squeeze. "Drop it." When she does he sits her down next to me. I stare blankly ahead because now that the distraction's over, the full weight of the knowledge weighs down on me. Annie's a target, they might try to take her if she doesn't get away.

_Please, give her the chance to run._

They explain what happened in the arena to Katniss. I try to help but my mind is spinning. Then they break the news about Peeta and Johanna to her and suddenly she's across the table in an instant, raking her nails down his cheeks. I try to pull her off of him as they scream at each other.

"YOU FREAKIN' LITTLE BITCH! AFTER ALL I'VE DONE TO KEEP YER ASS ALIVE—"

"YOU HAD THIS PLANNED ALL ALONG YOU KANIVING BASTARD! YOU NEVER TRIED TO HELP PEETA! ALL YOU DID WAS LIE TO US! YOU'RE A WRETCHED, DRUNK LITTLE LIAR AND NOW PEETA'S GONE!"

Plutarch eventually helps me and we get her tied down to the table, where she begins to repeatedly beat her head. She doesn't want to be awake; she can't handle the truth about Peeta. She's doing what I'm feeling. And then they inject her with something and she slumps against the table, rolling her head back and forth and wailing like some wounded animal. I cover my face in misery and don't assist them in removing Haymitch. Eventually someone helps me to the hospital room and I fall into my bed beside Katniss's. All this time I worried about myself and whether or not I'd live, and now Annie's life hangs in the balance because I did such a stand up job keeping my own in tact. After all these years of lies, of secrets, of strange sexual appetites and being a slave to the whim of Snow, I feel myself finally start to crack. My pillar of light isn't here, she's hiding. She's running so she isn't snuffed out. And it's all because she had the courage to rescue some young boy off the edge fifteen years ago. Because she never gave up when he rejected her friendship time and time again. And because she stayed when I couldn't be faithful. And now she'll pay for her mercy. And to _think_ of how it would affect her now, now that she's so unstable. Fragility was never Annie's strong suit. She can't survive another ordeal in the Capitol. After a few hours I hear Katniss stir.

"Katniss. Katniss, I'm so sorry. I wanted to go back for them, but I couldn't move. It's better for him than Johanna." _I can't imagine what they'll do to her._ "They'll figure out he doesn't know anything pretty fast. And then they won't kill him if they think they can use him against you."

I was trying to be comforting. Katniss gave me what I deserve.

"Like bait? Like how they'll use Annie for bait, Finnick?"

Hearing it sends me over and I weep, pressing my face into my arm. "I wish she was dead. I wish they were all dead and we were too. That would be best."

At least in death there is peace. Katniss doesn't answer and slips back into sleep. I fall asleep telling myself she might still be safe. Pearl might have hidden her in time. There might still be hope.

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

"Wake up."

I feel a cold splash and spring up to my feet, only to get woozy and sink back down. I blink a few times to clear up the blurriness to see my knees and hands on an unfamiliar floor. Dark metal now slimy with water. I look up and see a peacekeeper standing behind a barred wall. He has a long black ponytail and his sunglasses make him look like a black-eyed fly.

"Where am I?" I moan, rubbing my head.

"You're in the Capitol."

My eyes snap up to look at him again. "_What?_"

"And you're not going anywhere anytime soon."

My head reels and I can't get any grasp on what's going on. I'm in the capitol he said. There's a barred wall, the floor is dark metal. I turn to see another wall of metal to my right. And then more bars to the left. And then I saw who was next to me.

_Peeta Mellark._

He's slumped against the back wall with his hands and feet bound up by abrasive looking ropes. His eyes are closed and his breathing shallow. I squint through the darkness and can see through the other side of his cell and into the bars of the next cell. Johanna Mason is sprawled out on the floor with her back to me.

"What's going on?" I ask finally, turning around to face the peacekeeper, but he's gone.

_Take a breath Annie. Just relax. Don't lose it._

Finnick's not here. Whatever happened in that arena, he got out. Or maybe he didn't. Maybe he's dead.

I look over to see two red-headed avoxes in conjoined cells across from ours. I don't recognize either of them, but I suppose I wouldn't anyway.

I examine myself and pick at the thin white fabric of my shirt and skirt that is now covered in dirty water. In my cell there's a cot and a toilet with a small and barely sufficient modesty curtain. I'm shivering and want for a blanket, but there is none. Eventually I end up sitting against the bars and reaching my hand through, trying to touch Peeta's arm and wake him. I can't reach him but I'm only inches away. I try his name instead.

"Peeta. _Peeta."_

His eyes flutter open and then there's a moment of shock when he soaks in where he is. "When did you get here?" he asks, staring at me. Right, I'm not sure he even knows who I am.

"Just now I think. I'm Annie Cresta."

"Pleasure," he says with a grimace, "Sorry to be meeting you here."

"How long have you been in this place?" I ask.

"Since the arena blew up last night. I have no idea what they want from us. I have no idea what even happened. Do you?"

I shake my head. "I have no clue. Finnick never said a word."

He sighs and I think tears fill his eyes. "I just hope she's okay."

I can't tell how much time passes. We're fed something that I think is some sort of boiled greens and water that tastes like piss. More time. More waiting. More senselessness.

Finally footsteps enter and we all stand up to see what's going on. There's a man with brown cropped hair and his sunglasses on his head. He's got a team of peacekeepers behind him in special black rimmed uniforms. He stands with such authority I find myself backing up on instinct.

"Now listen up mongrels," he growls at us, "My name is Argen and here's how it's going to go. You don't give us what we want, you get pain. If you do, you get don't get pain. How's that sound?"

None of us say anything. I don't think he expected us to. "So I'm going to get started on our lovely lady Johanna over here."

He folds his hands patronizingly and winks at her. I can't see her face from my angle but I hear her hiss a very pointed, "Rot it Hell."

There's beeping and vibrations and suddenly clear walls are incasing Johanna's cell. Peeta, the avoxes, and I stand and watch as she keeps a brave face. Then once the walls were in place, the hoses went off and the cell flooded with water.

_Drown her? They're going to drown her? But how will they get their answers if they—_

There's the sound and smell of electricity in the air and I watch as Johanna is slowly electrocuted in her tank, seeming to seize and thrash until the jolts stopped and the water was released. She collapses onto the ground in a jerky, twitching heap. Argen enters her cell and kicks her onto her back with his steel-toed shoes. "That's just a fraction of what's in store," he tells her, "Just a taste. So do you feel like talking?"

I don't know if she was trying to say something back because she was still trying to regain control of her nerves. He smirked and kicked her in the ribs before leaving the leaving and shutting the door on her. Eventually I hear her moan.

_Keep it together Annie. Don't lose it. _

They move on to Peeta's cage, running their guns on his bars and making a terrible clanging sound. His face drains of color and his back presses into the wall. Argen fires his gun into the cell, the bullet striking the ground in front of his feet. I jumped at the loud cracking sound, coming down with the sounds of Argen's raspy laughter. As an answer to his wide-eyed expression, he says, "Snow needs you to stay looking pretty, so we have orders not to touch you." He digs into his pocket and hands a container to the neighboring peacekeeper. "In fact, we've got a little something for you." The peacekeeper goes into Peeta's cell until he's backed into a corner and has nowhere else to hobble. First she opens the container and dips her hand into the ointment. At first Peeta leans away from her touch, but eventually she presses the stuff onto the multiple wounds on his face and hands that were probably inflicted by the events in the arena.

"What is that?" he asks as she leaves. They don't answer him. He tries again with a different question. "Where's Katniss?"

"She's dead."

Peeta falls to his knees without blinking. "No."

"No indeed," Argen says, "She's alive. But she should be dead to you. She left you. It's because of her that you're here."

He shakes his head again and the party moves on.

To me.

My mind reminds me what happened to Johanna and her distant moan sends another chill down my spine. Argen's eyes are hidden behind his sharp sunglasses but I can tell when his gaze locks on me.

"Hello, Annie."

I steady myself with a breath and straighten up. "Where's Finnick?"

"He's with Katniss. He betrayed you."

"I don't believe you."

See, with Katniss the idea of betrayal and abandonment is somewhat believable. She does what it takes to survive, and if the needs of a loved one outweighs the need of another, she'd choose the one most loved. She's probably safe somewhere with her little sister and family. Peeta just hadn't reached that level of love for her perhaps. It didn't seem entirely in character though, she genuinely seemed to type to sacrifice herself first. But what did I know? I know that Finnick isn't like that. No amount of mind games or torture was going to make me think otherwise. My mind left me, it abandoned me, and Finnick's always been there. He's always been steadfast and unquestionable to me. If they kill me, I'll die knowing I'm loved. So this game isn't going to work.

"You'll see," he smirks, "For now, I have a guest for you."

I try to stay upright and not lose myself again. Through the darkness and through the cold nothing of the prison, a man emerges. Tall, thin, not particularly handsome. More cunning. More sickening.

"Hello, Annie. We've met before in passing, but mostly we've spoken on the phone." He smiles a twisted snarl of a grin and extends his hand through the bars as if greeting a colleague. I don't take it. "Briefly, of course," he adds with a twinkle in his eye. In an instant he's in the cell with me and I'm backing up.

"Keep away from me."

"Now, Miss Cresta, is that anyway to greet an old friend?"

"I don't know you," I say shakily, though I do recognize him. But I can't quite place him anywhere specific.

"Why, it's me, Ivan Pliers."

_Ivan._

So many nights I heard that name, mostly in a long stream of Finnick's miserable stories. So many years I've hated the name and never put a face to it. And now his disgusting, disfigured face is before me.

"Monster," I whisper, taking a step forward.

"I beg your pardon?"

"_Monster!"_

That switch in my mind goes off and all I see is his face and how it looks when I slam into him, bringing both of us to the floor. I bit the rings in eyebrows and rips them out, causing the Monster to roar and close his beady black eyes. Blood snakes slithered down his head and I didn't stop. No no no. I can't. Because I'm so tired of Monsters.

I slam my fists into his face and neck, ignoring the pain in my knuckles until something slams into the back of my head. I sprawl across the cold metal floor and try to crawl back to Ivan.

"YOU RUINED HIS LIFE!" I scream as they help him out. I take solace in the look of shock and total indignation on his face as he leaves. All the time Finnick talked about doing that himself.

_I took one for our team Fin._

"You'll pay for that," is all I hear before something hard slams down on my shoulder, wrapping against the bone. I yelp and try to crawl away but something clips my jaw. I cover my head and scream.

"MONSTERS ALL OF YOU!"

"Scream all you want Annie!" Argen says, using his steel-toed boot to kick me in the stomach which knocked out all of my air. I sobbed as they rained down on my arms and legs and ribs with their batons. He kneels in front of me when they stop and takes my chin, forcing me to look at him.

"Scrape, scrape, scrape, you can't escape Miss Cresta."

My whole body aches like I just fell down a mountain. They left me soon after, but not before taking away my clothes.

"You can freeze every night as a reminder of what you did and what will happen if there's a repeat offense." That's what they told me.

So beaten and naked, I dragged myself towards my cot and curled in on myself and sobbed. "Fin…_please _Fin, help us."

The cold of the cell causes my shivering to increase until all I am is a trembling beaten mass on the floor. I think I eventually fall asleep. That or pass out.

The world is sideways because of the way I'm laying. I never made it to my cot. I blink and see the bars connecting my cage to Peeta's. With all the strength I can manage, I reach out my hand. I close my eyes and will myself to imagine Finnick's hand interlocking with mine. Surely I'm mad enough to conjure up my own delusions if I need them. I feel a hand slide in to mine, but when I open my eyes it's not Fin's. It's Troy, fully human and fully in tact, clutching my hand in his. He's leaned against the bars casually but his face is full of sincerity. I blink at him and check his neck. There's no wound there, no blood. He looks at me in concern and says my name.

"Annie."

Wrong voice though. I don't remember Troy sounding like that.

"Troy…"

He looks beautiful actually. His grip on my hand tightens and he repeats himself.

"Annie."

I blink again and find that Troy isn't there at all. But there is someone holding my hand. I follow from the hand and up the arm until I find the face almost hidden entirely by the darkness of the prison.

"It's not Troy or Finnick, Annie, it's just Peeta."

Tears spring to my eyes because he's not who I want him to be. And also because he reminds me we're here. In this miserable place.

"No, don't cry, please," Peeta says gently, now pressing both his hands over mine. "Are you okay?"

I moan and can't suppress a sob that his words trigger. He reaches through the bars as far as he can with one hand and strokes me hair. "Shh, Annie, shhh." His other hand still holds on to mine.

"Monsters," is all I have the strength to convey out loud.

"I know," he says soothingly, "But they're gone for now. The monsters aren't here."

I glance around the room to see if he's telling the truth. He's right, I don't see them. I do see Johanna Mason laying down in her cell.

"Is she okay?" I ask.

"I was speaking with her earlier. I think she's alright."

"Did she tell you what happened? Where the others are? What happened in the arena?"

He shakes his head. I'm disappointed.

"You should try and got up on the cot. It's not much better but it'll conserve your body heat better than that metal floor," he tells me, "I'd give you my shirt or something but they never even let Johanna and I change out of our clothes from the arena before throwing us in here." He smiles and gestures towards his filthy undershorts, "This is all I've got. You're welcome to it but somehow…"

"No thanks," I say with a weak smile. He really is as nice in person as he is on television. How rare. I heave myself up and roll onto the mat. Peeta lets go of my hand so I can move properly. The effort exhausts me and I fall back into darkness the minute my entire body lands on the cot.

_Finnick be safe. Be alive. Please find me._

_I love you._

I dream of the water tank and electrocution, only it's Finnick inside. And in the next cell it's Troy being beaten into a pulp. I scream and scream and scream until I'm awoken by a vice-like grip on my hand.

"Annie!"

At first I'm startled, but then I remember where I am and what's real. Peeta has my hand again. "You were screaming in your sleep."

I pull my hair over my chest to maintain some decency and then just whisper to him; "You may have to get used to that."

There's a moment of silence before he says; "That was brave back there, when you attacked that man. Who was he?"

"Someone who had it coming."

I'm glad Peeta reminds me of this victory. I use it for warmth when before I was struggling for it. We're going to need some victories.

And I couldn't be more right. This is only the beginning of our lives here.


	38. Chapter 38

****_You asked, I delivered :) And it's freaking long. Happy reading!_

**38**

**The Mockingjay**

"Finnick, please try to understand…"

"You told me that you were going to get her from Four. You told me that you were going to bring her here. With us."

"I never promised anything except that I would try. They took her the night the force field blew. Hours after. There was no way to get there in time. I'm so sorry."

I run my hand down my face and attempt to blink back tears, but I can feel the remains of my foundation being shaken. My beacon of light isn't hiding, she's being snuffed out.

"Is there no way we can save her? Save her and get Johanna and Peeta back too?"

Heavensbee sighs and gives me a look that says I look more of a wreck than I feel. "We'll try Finnick, of course we will. I don't think they'll hurt her. It would serve no purpose for them."

I let that soak, but then an icy dagger wedges its way into my peace. "They will to hurt me."

I picture Annie being whipped, tortured, screaming, and terrorized. I fall to my knees and fold in on myself as if my very bones were crumbling to the ground.

"Maybe I should get someone…" Heavensbee whispers outloud.

"Please," I beg him, letting my cheek rest of the floor of my room, "Just leave me alone for a little while."

He gives me a pat on the shoulder before closing the door quietly behind him.

_So now I've done it. I've finally destroyed her._

I don't know at what point I lost consciousness, but I know now that I am in a dream. I'm walking in a place void of space, meeting Annie who is in her interview dress and walking for me. She looks beautiful. I look down and find myself in a matching suit. When we are close enough, we lock naturally in a dancing posture and begin to move in a floating waltz through the nothing.

"Are we dead?" I ask.

"Not yet," she responds with a little smile.

"Then what is all this?"

Her eyes twinkle and she gives me an effortless kiss on the cheek without breaking step. "You've finally lost it, huh?"

"What do you mean?"

"Look around you," she says, "We're in your dream."

"So?"

"See how much you can feel my hand on yours?" she asks, giving my hand a squeeze, "How vivid the details on our clothing and faces are?"

I don't answer because I still don't know what I should say. She says it for me. "When you're crazy, you have the most vivid dreams."

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

"Please stop!" I scream, crushing my hands over my ears. They have filled the bottom of Johanna's cell with an inch of water and have been repeatedly electrocuting her for hours. Her screams tear a path through my subconscious. Peeta was taken away for some kind of interview.

"Tell us and it will stop," Argen says to Johanna as she struggles to recover from her last treatment.

"We both know that's not going to happen," she manages to say before doubling over in pain. Argen frowns and gestures to his men. I think they're going to zap her again, but they don't. The walls in her cell go down and the water floods out into drains. Two guards walk in and hold her arms. Argen pulls a syringe from his pocket and kneels down in front of her. I remove my hands so I can hear what he's saying.

"What do you know? Are they going to attack? And when?"

"Sorry. Dunno."

Argen flicks the syringe with his other hand and gets closer to her. "This little shot here has the power to make every single one of your individual viens feel like they're being electrocuted for hours. Sometimes days if you're body doesn't know how to rid itself of the toxin. I'm not going to ask twice."

Johanna looks at the syringe and then just bows her head.

"Just tell them Johanna!" I shriek at her, panic rising in my throat. I don't know who she's trying to protect or what she's trying to hide, but I can't be worth all this. I'll tell them. I'll lie, I don't care. I wish I had the strength to break through these bars.

_Scream scream scream it's all a bad dream._

Argen shrugs indifferently and injects her with the shot and then exits with his men. At first nothing happens and I allow myself to hope that maybe it didn't work. But then Johanna stiffens and arcs her back until she's supported by her head and feet, all the while screaming like every cell in her body was being pressed to a white iron.

"MAKE IT STOP! STOP!" I cry, slapping my hands over my ears and rocking on my knees.

_Sh, Annie, shhh._

_Monsters are eating Johanna from the inside out._

_STOP STOP STOP STOP STOP._

But she didn't stop screaming. Not for hours. By the end of it I'm nothing but a blithering, sobbing pile of nothing on the ground with my hands pressed so hard against my ears I have a headache from the block in circulation. My heart is still beating.

_Thud thud thud thud._

I sit up to inspect the silence, unable to stop shivering. The nails of the metal floor leave imprints in my skin. I'm so sick of being too cold to sleep but too warm to die. Johanna is unconscious, hopefully in a world kinder than the one her body's in. I look up as they drag Peeta back in, but now he's wearing a full suit. They toss him in his cell, lock it, and leave. He roars in frustration and kicks his cot into the back wall. It startles me.

"What happened?" I ask, pulling myself up to the bars linking our cages.

"They showed me the footage of the last night in the arena," he says while running his hand through his hair. "It's just like you said. Katniss shot the arrow into the forcefield. But they're out there trying to turn her into the bad guy. They're out there trying to turn the world against her." He turns to me and swings his arms out, "But we didn't know! There's no way she could've known! I saw the look on her face she had no idea what she was doing. She was looking for me. She was trying to find me. She had no idea there was some master plan behind it. But they don't believe me!"

"Peeta…"

"So then Snow comes up in his high horse and starts telling me they know where Katniss is and they'll blow her up if I don't help them stop the revolution—"

"Wait, _what_?"

"So I had to call for a cease fire! And honestly, it didn't sound like such a bad idea! I have no _idea_ what's going on out there and it's killing me!"

"Peeta did they tell you what happened to Finnick?"

"He's with her I'm sure," he says gruffly, spinning on his heels, "they both were close enough together with Beetee to be rescued before the second aircraft arrived."

He breaks and I see tears glistening on his cheeks. "She didn't know," he says to himself as he slides down the wall, "She didn't know."

"No, she didn't," Johanna says. The sound of her voice surprises me, I didn't expect her to be able to speak. But with those three words I could feel the relief melt through the air. Maybe our loved ones are out there leading different lives and doing things that don't have to do with saving us, but at least we can take solace in the fact that they didn't plan for this.

I know Finnick didn't plan for this.

_Maybe he thought he'd be able to rescue you faster._

Finnick didn't plan for this. It was a mistake.

_He knew the plan. He was in on it. _

"Finnick knew."

Saying it outloud sounds like an accusation, one I want to take back. The room is quiet and then Johanna manages to hoarsely answer that one too.

"But he never knew you'd be taken away. He thought that the rebels would protect you."

_See? He didn't abandon you._

_How dare you betray his trust, after all he's done._

_I'm pathetic. So weak. So fragile. So pathetic._

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

I'm not sure how many days pass. Nothing much happens. Peeta gave me his suit jacket to keep warm, but Argen took it away. So I don't let him do that anymore because than neither of us benefits. Because Johanna's gotten such a rough end with the torture, Peeta spends a lot of time on that side of his cell trying to comfort her. Sometimes I want to help her so badly it hurts me. I want to tell her everything's going to be alright. But I cant. I'm stuck here.

And one day Argen appears at my cell door, just after a fresh beating session at Johanna's.

"Well, well, well," he crows, looking me up and down. I fold my arms over my chest and try to hide the rest of me by turning away. But every angle provides something for him to leer at. "Little miss Annie Cresta. You look chilly," he grins impishly and then gestures at one of his men who holds up a camera. "You see Miss Cresta," he continues, stalking my front door, "You're only here to break your little friend out there. Finnick Odair, yes, the one and only. You're rather stunning Miss Cresta it's no wonder he's chosen you to be his permanent sex object."

"He's not like that," I hiss, trying no tot let my fear show. Argen laughs and gives me a patronizing smile.

"You don't think so? You don't think he _enjoys_ all that luxurious intimacy here in the capitol?"

"No. He doesn't."

Argen studies me then chuckles again, "Interesting. Anyway, here's the point of our little visit. We need to get through to your little friend and have him come here and confess all the plans and plots all to us. So naturally the best way to get to him is to get to you. And we're going to get the whole thing on a nice little tape to send to him so he can mull it over."

My voice quivers because I'm afraid of what's coming. "Send what?"

"Are you cold, Miss Cresta?" Argen asks with a creepy grin. Suddenly the ceiling of my cell turns red and I can feel the heat glaring off the metal. The red begins to fan out over the space and as it does, the original spot turns yellow and white with the intensity of the heat.

_They're going to burn you alive._

"NO!" I scream, leaping at the bars. "NO PLEASE DON'T!"

Argen and his men keep a safe distance from my hands as I try to claw for the little button in his hand. And suddenly searing pain erupts in my hands and I leap away from the bars, staring at the straight burns on my hand. The heat is spreading down the bars, getting closer and closer to the ground.

"NO, NO _PLEASE!"_

But they don't listen. I watch in horror as the first of the red glow kisses the metal ground and then starts to spread in from each side. The proximity of the heat makes my eyes hurt.

"Annie!" I hear Peeta shout. I look at him and he's standing behind the glowing red bars. "Annie, look at me. Just stay calm. Just don't panic—"

"You can't escape Annie!" Argen shouts over him. I look at the space I have left on the ground and see that it's shrinking into a tiny little island in the middle. I whimper and retreat to that small space. The red gets closer and closer. I imagine searing my skin on the white hot metal. I imagine slowly dying, writhing on the sweltering ground until my skin bakes through and all my vital organs spill out to fry on the floor.

"_Please," _I beg, fear overcoming me. I dissolve into fear and defeat. The camera's little red light flashes letting me know it's going to capture every little agonizing second of my death. Sweat drips down my back.

My island is shrinking more. First I can stand on both feet. Then it shrinks to the size of a dinner plate and I have to lift one of my legs. I teeter-totter and nearly lose my balance.

_The fires coming. The fires coming to swallow you whole. _

I look down at my wrist, "Where's my bracelet?" I scream, suddenly that's the most important thing to me. "Where's Troy? Where are the fire puppies?"

They look at me like I've lost it, which tells me I have.

"Are you waiting?" I growl at them like some kind of animal, "Are you waiting to see my blood snakes slither away from me? Are you waiting for my blood snakes to come bite you in the hearts?"

The one peacekeeper turns to Argen who merely shrugs. I'm on my toes now because the island is the size of a saucer. Then a coin. I'm balancing on my big toe. And then it's gone.

In the shock of feeling the burn on my toe, I do the worst thing I can do. I leap away, coming down on my other foot which lands on the white metal. I scream and shriek and thrash, jumping from place to place, but no where offers relief. My feet can't take it anymore and fall onto my hands and knees which hurts more. I'm screaming screaming screaming. I try to stand to get off my knees but my aching feet throw me back down and I fall on my side.

"ANNIE!" a voice screams. "GET ON THE COT!"

_Cot cot cot, the ground is hot. _

_Where's relief, it's nowhere in sight. _

_The ash will turn my skin to night._

"COME ON ANNIE, FOCUS! GET ON THE COT, NOW."

My body is shaking and I see the cot. He's right, it's not on fire. I force myself up, which tears the skin that welded onto the floor and leap for it. When I land the relief is instant and I start crying. I laugh if it's healing pain. But if it's hurting pain I cry and scream. And this is just hurting pain.

Soon after that the fire disappears and the room is nearly as cold as it was before, no sign of the blazing iron that was searing my skin before. Someone's saying something to me but I can't hear them. I'm forcing my self to pull in breath after breath. The aching on my skin would soon turn to acute agony, I knew that. So for now I had to keep myself calm.

"That's a wrap," Argen chuckles. "That was very dramatic Annie, the part where you stumble is very visually dynamic."

I whimper and spread out my limbs so that my burns don't rub together. Peeta is getting sick in the cell over. I watch Argen and his crew leave. The pain is intensifying and I stifle a scream, trying to keep myself under control. My heart is beating a mile a second.

_Thud thud thud thud thud._

_Don't go into shock Annie, stay here. Don't go into shock or you'll die._

The pain pulses and I can't hold back the sound it forces from me.

_Maybe death wouldn't be such a bad thing._

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

Annie's gone, nowhere to go. There's nobody here that I know.

Except Beetee and Katniss. I've seen them. Yep, I have. But only in passing. I'm going to go visit Beetee now. They said I could. And I didn't want to hang out with all those mental patients from the fire in Twelve anymore anyway.

As I'm heading towards his room I hear screaming. A woman's screaming. Is it…no. There's no way.

_Annie. _

I lunge forward and crash through the doors. As I enter I see Beetee and a man named Boggs switch off a television way too quickly to be unsuspicious.

"What's going on?" I demand, looking at their faces. They're looking at me almost apologetically. "What was that? Why did I hear Annie screaming?"

"Finnick, it wasn't—"

"DON'T LIE."

Even with a few weeks under the shelter of Thirteen, my muscle mass is still better than Boggs' by far. I see Beetee rip the tape out of the player and toss it to Boggs. I watch them and then see Boggs move to rip out the film.

"Stop!" I careen forward and almost swipe the tape, but Boggs is faster. "What's on the tape?"

"Finnick, you don't want to see!"

"I do—"

Next thing I know the film has been ripped out and Boggs is standing there with a destroyed tape. "Sorry. It's for your own good. It was a fake tape sent by the Capitol to break you. It wasn't real but we knew you wouldn't believe us if you saw it. So now you won't."

He tosses the tape into the furnace where I presume Beetee gets people to weld things for his weapons. But…Annie…

"Are they hurting her?"

"It was a fake."

Boggs leaves and Beetee is left to deal with me alone.

"You really should be resting," he tells me, "you've been through so much already."

"So have you," I reason, taking a seat. "Volts, please tell me the truth."

He turns to some sort of gun and starts playing with the wires. "Why, dear boy? So you can disintegrate until you're completely useless? She needs you alive, she needs you to be the man you always were. That's your responsibility isn't it? To protect her?"

"Yeah but—"

"Then protect her from yourself."

I stare at him for a second and then sigh, covering my face in my hands. "They're torturing her, aren't they? That's why you won't tell me. It's that bad." He doesn't say anything, which lets me know it's even worse than I thought. "I feel like I'm losing my grip here, Beetee."

"Maybe you should," he says as-a-matter-of-factly. "Maybe you need to let yourself lose it for a while. So you can come back stronger when she returns." I blink at him and he gives me one of his little smiles. "It's okay, I give you permission. Go nuts. Or go volts, come to think of it. Just get it out of your system."

I don't say a word, even as someone brings a tray in full of food and drinks. Beetee has healed immensely since the arena, but he's still too weak to eat heavy foods. I stare at a spot at the wall and only blink when he says, "Tea?"

"No, thanks."

Eventually I wander back to the hospital wing where they've been keeping me. I land on the bed and stare up at the ceiling.

_Okay Fin, now's the time. Lose it._

I close my eyes and let everything go. My reaping, my murders, but father's death, my mother's departure, Ivan's oily grin, the faces and secret whispers of countless women, Annie's reaping, Troy kissing and then dying for her, her insanity, my second reaping, Mags' death, and now Johanna and Annie's capture. I let it flow in and fill me up and then I arc my head back, open my mouth, and suck in the air.

And then I scream.

I let all the agony, all the humiliation, of all my memories pour out through my voice. I scream until I swear it doesn't matter where she is, Annie can hear me. I want to go back to my district. All I want is to see the ocean again, to see the waves I was raised on. I want to see Annie swimming towards me in one of her white dresses that make her look like a jellyfish underwater. I want to feel the sand on my hands and feet and sleep under the clear sky. I miss the sky. I miss the stars. I miss the air.

I miss my home.

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

"How are you feeling?" I think it's Peeta's voice asks. I moan and feel tears spring to my eyes.

"I want to go home."

"We all do," Johanna says back.

I can't really move anymore, which means I can't go get the food even when they leave it. I'm feeling myself wasting away to nothing. Every night it gets harder and harder to wake up. Eventually the pain of hunger and thirst gets dissolved by the ever-constant pain in my body. Peeta will ask how I'm doing sometimes, but I think they've given up on me. I would've given up on me.

"My, my Miss Cresta. You look like hell," I hear a voice say on one unidentifiable way. "We can't have you dead, not yet. It ruins the temptation."

I moan because I'm too weak to say anything else. I feel something cool on my skin and open my eyes to see some avox spreading ointment on all my burns. It gives me a tingly sensation and seems to suck out the pain. I blink at her but she of course says nothing. I recognize her as the red-headed avox they have in the cell across from us. Lavinia or something like that. When she's done she picks up the tray of food and sets it beside me, giving it a firm point. I nod to say I understand. Then she raises the glass of water to my lips and tips it so I have no choice but to drink. It feels nice running past my dry lips and passed my dry throat.

She's about to leave but I grab her hand. "Thank you."

She nods and then Argen leads her back to her cell. I fall back asleep I think. When I wake up my burns feel a lot better and I feel stronger. I actually make myself eat.

When I do, I notice the condition that everyone else is in. Johanna's a mess, which is no surprise. But it's Peeta who shocks me. They've taken him away a few times but he always comes back seemingly unscathed.

_Unscathed physically. _

_What are they doing to him?_

He's lost a lot of weight. Maybe ten pounds. And the bags under his eyes are nearly black with fatigue and heart-sickness. I realize once again in my life I've been too selfish. As night falls I see tears streaming down his face. So this time I reach my hands through the bars.

"Peeta."

He doesn't respond, nor does he blink. I try again.

"_Peeta."_ He looks at me and my heart breaks for him. "How are you doing?"

He shakes his head and his eyes fall on my outstretched hand. He takes it and presses his face into our clutched hands and cries, his whole body shaking. I feel so badly for him. This whole capture for him has been about him losing his love. At least I got to keep mine. He's confused, hurt. Probably lonely and tired of being a pillar for me and Johanna.

"She loves you Peeta," I say finally, stroking his hair with my free hand. "I know she does. Don't give up."

He falls asleep holding my hand and eventually I do too.

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

I've been in the hospital for days. Katniss's mom and some other doctors gave me a thin piece of rope to start tying knots with. They said it was good for me to try to occupy my hands with something familiar, something from home. When they first gave it to me it was longer, but from the way I was looking at it I think they thought better of it and cut the length down so I couldn't fashion some kind of noose. No matter. I liked tying the knots. It was a little bit of a distraction. No, not really. It was just a way to channel my frustrations in a way that felt familiar.

They told me that my mother, friends, and Annie's family are alive. They've been left to make their own decisions on whether or not they want to help fight in the rebellion or go into hiding. My mother's gone into hiding. My friends have all joined the rankings. I guess Martin's found a girl there by the sound of the rumors they told me about their scandal in the weaponry house. I heard that Echo's been left with the children because Pearl couldn't stop herself from fighting, especially since Stephen joined the fight. For Annie's sake, I pray she comes out alive.

I saw something on television that gave me hope. Peeta had an interview, and even though the footage pinned him as a traitor, he didn't look injured. Just maybe a little haunted. But physically he looked in tact. Maybe that's the same for Annie, too.

_I wonder how Katniss is doing with all this?_

I haven't seen anyone familiar for such a long time it seems. I'm lonely.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

_I'm given a handful of sugar cubes that's supposed to be for the horses. When the avox leaves, I turn around in exasperation._

"_I cannot believe they stuck me in something like this. I mean, the knot on the rope barely covers my—"_

_Mags covers her ears in a blunt fashion and I have to laugh. She looks like a pouting child. I stare down at myself again and shake my head. _

_Golden Boy Finnick, channel it. You're going to have to if you want out of this alive._

_Johanna and Seeder whistle at me and stalk over, giving me an over exaggerated 'up-down'. "Nice knot there," Johanna says crassly, "I like the part where, when you turn to the side, I know exactly how big each item of your junk is."_

_I laugh and give her a push. She almost falls over because, once again, she's dressed as a tree. "Is that why you have wood?"_

_Johanna gives me a look that says I've topped her. I grin smugly at her and then rub the side of her trunk affectionately. "They said 'seduction suits me.'"_

"_It certainly does," Seeder says, "I've never seen floss look so good."_

_We laugh again when I notice Katniss enter the scene alone, pinning herself to her chariot. She's trying hard to look inconspicuous._

_Not so boisterous off camera, are you darling?_

_It's sort of a joke with us victors how squeamish this tough Katniss is when it comes to naked bodies. And hey, look!—I'm a naked body. For the most part anyway. I excuse myself from the girls and walk over to this new girl who's got the world in such a fuss—actually I'm almost certain she's the reason we're all here—and wait for her to turn around. When she does, her face is inches from mine and her surprise is evident. I pop a sugar cube in my mouth and lean against the horse. She blinks at me in surprise. I casually say, "Hello Katniss."_

_She tries to copy my nonchalant aptitude, but it isn't nearly as effective. "Hello, Finnick." She's just radiating with discomfort._

"_Want a sugar cube?" I offer, holding out the pile on my hand. "They're supposed to be for the horses, but who cares? They've got years to eat sugar, whereas you and I…well, if we see something sweet, we better grab it quick._

_Judging by her blush, my innuendo doesn't go unnoticed._

_Or unappreciated, might I add._

"_No thanks," she says to the sugar, "I'd love to borrow your outfit sometime, though."_

_Ooh, feisty. "You're absolutely terrifying me in that getup," I say, looking her over. On a second thought I also moisten my lips, just slightly. "What happened to all the pretty little girl dresses?"_

_She gives me a dirty look. "I outgrew them."_

_This, of course, just makes her sound more like a child to me._

_I feel her collar in my fingers. The material really is magnificent. "It's too bad about this Quell thing. You could have made out like a bandit in the Capitol. Jewells. Money. Anything you desire."_

"_I don't like jewels," she replies, "and I have more money than I need. What do you spend all yours on anyway, Finnick?"_

"_Oh, I haven't dealt in something as common as money for a long time."_

_She's playing my game of seduction. "Then how do they pay you for the pleasure of your company?" Right, she's a new tribute. She has no idea what my life is really like._

"_With secrets," I whisper. I lean in and cock my head to the side so that our lips are nearly brushing. "What about you, girl on fire? Have any secrets worth my time?"_

_She blushes again. "No, I'm an open book. Everybody seems to know my secrets before I do."_

_I laugh. "Unfortunately I think that's true." I see Peeta approaching and decide not to end my fun in a brawl with her boyfriend, however real or fake he may be. Suddenly a part of me really dislikes this girl Katniss, because of the games she is playing with this man. But I'm supposed to relate. The Golden Boy would understand stringing along poor little Peeta. "It's a shame you had to cancel your wedding," I say, and then add just a hint of venom, "I know how devastating that must be for you." I pop another sugar cube in my mouth and turn on my heels. Johanna is waiting for me upon my return._

"_What did she say?" she asks eagerly._

"_Nothing really. But that was definitely fun."_

"_Can you believe they're calling her the face of the revolution?"_

"_Who's saying that?"_

"_Everybody."_

_I glance over at Katniss talking to Peeta. A survivor. I'm not sure what else. I suppose I opt towards the side of sympathy than hatred. "There's got to be something there. She almost committed suicide on television."_

"_Maybe," Johanna yawns, "I suppose she's the best dressed for it. The only thing you and I are good for right now are earring hangers. And even then I'd bet yours would be the more popular choice."_

o-o-o-o-o

"Alright, everyone that can walk, follow me," Ms. Everdeen announces to all us patients. A few of them stand up and follow her out. It doesn't register that I'm supposed to go too until she returns for me with a gentle smile and tugs on my wrist. "Come on Finnick, everyone wants to see you honey."

I follow after the group in a mild daze. Everyone's assembling into one room, but I have no idea why. I tie my knots without missing a beat, letting my stress and confusion pour out through my fingers.

As we're in the crowd, I feel a nudge and someone says, "Finnick! How are you doing?"

I look down to see Katniss—though a more aged and weathered one than I remembered—and feel relief instantly at the familiar face. "Katniss." I grip her hands and cling to them for the feeling to stay. "Why are we meeting here?"

"I told Coin I'd be her Mockingjay. But I made her promise to give the other tributes immunity if the rebels won. In public, so there are plenty of witnesses."

Well that's a relief.

"Oh. Good. Because I worry about that with Annie. That she'll say something that could be construed as traitorous without knowing it."

Katniss blinks and then gives me a smile, "Don't worry, I took care of it." She squeezes my hand and disappears without an explanation. A few moments later she returns and we listen to Coin give the spiel about Katniss's Mockingjay status as well as her controversial conditions. At the end, Coin adds something that touches a small nerve in the back of my head. It makes me uneasy, like maybe she's not to be trusted.

"…It follows that any deviance fom her mission, in either motive or deed, will be viewed as a break in this agreement. The immunity would be terminated and the fate of the four victors determined by the law of District Thirteen. As would her own. Thank you."

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

"We've killed most of them already," Argen says as his guards drag a man in with a cover over his head. "But I wanted you to see this. And Finnick to see it, actually. So we have our little camera."

I see the red dot on the camera that tells me it's sucking the souls of the room in to be recorded forever. I stare at the man who's now on his knees and just pray that it isn't Stephen.

No, it's not Stephen. It's Finnick's friend and previous mentor, Tristan.

When the bag is pulled off his head I gasp as the bruises and contusions all over his face. His curly blonde hair is matted with dirt and blood. When he sees me, he looks shocked and then concerned.

"Annie?"

"Tristan."

I gently fold my hands around the bars and stare at him in a way that I hope conveys my sorrow for him. That his family is at home, probably wondering about him. His wife. His child. And just as I open my mouth to say so, Argen shoots him in the head.

"NO!" I scream, retreating from the bars. Tristan's body falls into a heap on the ground, blood snakes slithering away from his skull. Some come for my cell, while others find the drain. I cry because I know what he meant to people outside. What it means to have his light snuffed out. In the same fashion, another person is dragged into the room in front of Peeta's cell. The bag is removed and I recognize her face from the television.

Portia, Peeta's designer and Cinna's partner.

"And for you, dear Peeta."

"Portia, I'm sorry," is what he manages to say before she too is shot in the head. Watching the blood spray makes my stomach lurch and I'm sick for a moment, though I manage to contain it all into the toilet bin. They don't bother dragging anyone in to execute in front of Johanna. There's no one left she loves, and she's incoherent enough right now it wouldn't touch her the way it does Peeta and me. The bodies are dragged unceremoniously from the room, leaving a red trail, and I wonder how I'll tell Finnick about his friend's death. Assuming I see Finnick again. Which I might not. It seems more that way now than ever before.

No body is safe.

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

They're filming Katniss's propo and I'm allowed on set. _Hurray_ for me. I get to sneak around and look at technology. I'm even allowed to poke one of the cameras a few times before I hit a bad button and get my hand slapped. I decide to leave them alone. Then I see Katniss with all her new scarring and smudging and her uniform designed by the one and only Cinna. She sports a sick looking bow and her hair is messed up in just the right way. I can't imagine how the rest of the world will perceive this done up image of rebellion. I smile at her and say, "They'll either want to kill you, kiss you, or be you."

Honestly, the filming goes horribly. Katniss's acting skills are some of the worst I've ever seen. And my goodness, the _smoke machines._

"People of Panem, we fight, we dare, we end our hunger for justice!"

It's all so ridiculous, so overdone. But I suppress my laughter incase anyone else liked it. Haymitch's voice over the intercom doesn't show as much restraint.

Still laughing we hear him say, "And that, my friends, is how a revolution dies."

After a long talk about how great Katniss is and what should be done instead, they decide to send her unscripted into combat. This excites me because I want to go too. I'm tired of sitting in Thirteen without a hint of fresh air or sunlight or excitement. I'm bored. I need to _do_ something.

"I'm sorry, Finnick, but you can't go," Fulvia says with a hint of annoyance in her voice. No one likes to see a project they've worked hard on fail.

"But I _have _to! I need to do something!"

"You're too unstable, we can't be babysitting you _and_ trying to get a performance out of that girl."

"I'll be fine, really. I'll behave. I just want to come."

"No, sorry."

"But I'll be fine!"

"Talk to Coin then."

I turn to say something, but she's already got her hand up. "Sorry Finnick. This is a Mockingjay mission only."

"But…"

"No buts."

I take a breath because I don't want to give up. "Can I at least ride in the hovercraft?"

She looks at me in annoyance and shakes her head. "Absolutely not, Soldier Odair."

I spin on my heels and pace around, trying to think of a solution. I need to do something. I have to.

Katniss. Yes, Katniss can help me.

I find her eventually, already leaving for the ship with that man named Boggs. My agitation has reached its peek and I storm up after her. "Katniss, they wont let me go! I told them I'd be fine, but they won't even let me ride in the hovercraft!"

She turns and takes me in for a moment. I stand there, waiting for a response. Then suddenly, a little too suddenly, she smacks her forehead.

"Oh, I forgot. It's this stupid concussion. I was supposed to tell you to report to Beetee in Special Weaponry. He's designed a new trident for you."

_Trident?_

The word resurfaces a part of me that used to fish with a trident every day of the week along side his father. And then the other part that wielded the same tool as a form of protection and weapon. I like the sound of the word. I like the way it makes me feel when I hear it.

"Really? What's it do?"

She smiles, "I don't know. But if it's anything like my bow and arrows, you're going to love it." Then she adds, "You'll need to train with it though."

_Finally, something useful to do._

"Right. Of course. I guess I better get down there," I say.

I'm about to turn around when Katniss says, "Finnick?" I face her and she's got a suppressed grin on her face, "Maybe some pants?"

I look down and finally see myself the way others have been seeing me in this ridiculous nightgown. I mean I never embraces my Golden Boy fully, but no part of me would be caught dead looking like this. So I do what I do best when it comes to clothes. I rip it off.

"Why?" I ask in a sultry voice. "Do you find this—" I strike the most provocative pose I can imagine, giving her and Boggs a straight shot of my underwear and its contents, "distracting?"

Katniss bursts out laughing, looks at Boggs and sees his chagrin, and laughs harder. The elevator is about to close on her when she says, "I'm only human, Odair." I chuckle and as soon as they're gone I run to find myself some new clothes and then straight to Special Weaponry. I'm ready to start playing with my new toy.

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

Again I'm lost on how long we've been here. But one day, quite suddenly, Argen comes crashing in with a group of men behind him. They come to a halt in front of Peeta's cell.

"Do you have any idea what your little girlfriend just did?" Argen demands, pointing a finger at Peeta. "She taped some bullshit propo announcing her as the symbol the rebellion. They're calling her the Mockingjay. It aired in every single district in Panem!" He's furious, I can tell by the way he's standing so stiff. "That doesn't sound like someone worried about your rescue Peeta, that sounds like a manipulated _bitch_ bending over for the rebels."

"Don't talk about her like that!" Peeta snarls back. But Argen strikes the bars with the butt of his gun and leans in. "Listen here boy," he hisses, "If she's not going to come for you, we're going to make her wish she did."

In an instant they're in Peeta's cell, snapping shackles over his wrists and tearing off his shirt. One of the peacekeepers takes out a whip and the others yank on the chains until Peeta's nearly dangling by his wrists.

"Please don't," I beg them. But of course they never listen. At the sound of the first lash, I already want to retreat in on myself and die. I see the angry red mark it leaves on his back. And then the second. Then the third. The fourth.

When they hit nine, that's when Peeta really starts crying out in pain. And then at fifteen they let him down from the whipping only to be beaten and kicked as he screams and groans until he falls unconscious. He's so swollen and bloody I barely recognize him.

"That, my friends, is how you send a message," Argen says. With a snap of his fingers, he and his men are gone.

"Peeta, can you hear me? Peeta?"

He doesn't answer. I'm afraid he's dead but I see his finger move and know he's not. But he doesn't wake. Not for hours. And when he does he's so dazed and confused he just rolls himself painfully onto his cot and goes back to sleep. And that's when Argen returns.

"He's had enough," Johanna says firmly even though her voice has lost half it's volume. Argen goes easily into Peeta's cell and slips his arm around his shoulder and hauls him up.

"We need you to do an interview, so upsidaisy sunshine."

Peeta can barely keep his head up. "What?"

"Come on, Snow and you need to have a little chat."

And with that Peeta is dragged out and Johanna and I are left clueless as to what's going on. Well maybe she's not clueless. But I am. I can only hope there's some great purpose going on with these 'propos' that would mean they'd take priority over rescuing us. I can only hope they worked. I can only hope that the inspiration people are getting from these videos is worth it. So much that our lives are not as important as that of the Mockingjay's.


	39. Chapter 39

****_Okay, question answering time._

_1. Will i send this to Susanne Colins?/Get this published. Okay, well just remember these characters and even basic plotline belongs to collins. The most i could hope for is a dedication and have the novel published under her name. also, i'd want to improve it alot before sending it. i haven't had all parts of this story planned out ahead of time, so there's things i'd like to go back and improve/change. So the answer is maybe some day i'll send it to collins if i can work out the kinks. Where it goes from there is deteremined by if she even bothers to read it :p._

_(Also, not to keen on everyone knowing me as the girl who wrote a really extensive fanficiton about the Hunger Games._

_2. What country am i from? North-Eastern America, but i was born and raised on brittish literature so my writing style and vocab is more influenced by the Britts than the americans. _

_3. Will i continue the story? Of course. Until it's over. and for all of you that keep telling me my darn ending sucks, RELAX! It sucks because it's not the actual ending! The end will have a big fat unmistakable 'The End' slapped at the bottom, so you'll know._

_Thanks for overlooking my writing and grammatical errors, i know some of them are funny. i'm just trying to send this out as fast as i write it. Happy reading! Don't worry, after this the chapters will cheer up._

**39**

**Rebirth and Destruction**

"Beetee, are you here?" I ask. I'm sporting a new pair of pants and shirt and now all I want is to see this new trident. I have a horrible feeling in the back of my head that she was just lying to get me to go away. But to my relief I see him hobble up to me. "Finnick! Good to see you dear boy," he exclaims with a big smile, "Did Katniss send you?"

"She did," I say, a little taken aback by his enthusiasm.

"Right this way then." He leads me into the weaponry room that is packed with some of the most impressive guns and knives I've ever seen. And just as I'm studying the paint job on a strap-on canon, I feel a tap on my shoulder. "Here it is, Finnick."

I turn and see a shiny, menacing looking trident in his hand. At a glance it could be simple enough, but up close I can see several latches and screws and technology that just isn't in a regular trident used for fishing. Excitement fills me up. _Finally! A real distraction._

_And finally, something I can use._

"I know it's nothing too flashy on the outside," Beetee admits, pushing his glasses up the ridge of his nose, "But it's the inside that really counts. Put this on." He hands me a special cuff than attaches on my wrist. It nearly radiates with power. "Now, throw the trident at that target," he instructs. I do, rejoicing in the familiar feel of pulling my arm back, aiming, and throwing. I never thought I'd find as much comfort and return to normalcy as I did in that solid _thwump_ sound as my weapon found home in the bull's eye. "Very good," Beetee remarks, "now press the button on your cuff."

I glance at him and then find the little button and push it down. Immediately the cuff vibrates and the trident comes whizzing back from the target and sailing straight into my hand. I stare down at it in disbelief. "And that's not even the half of it," Beetee says gleefully. For the next two hours I explore the wonders of my new weapon. It has an automatic blade sharpener of all things. There's also an electric effect that will begin on impact if I twist the middle prong before throwing. It will burn a foreigner's hand upon my command if for some reason someone tried to steal it. There's several combinations that Beetee walks me through allowing my to poison, burn, zap, and bomb whatever I like. For the first time in a long time I feel powerful again. It's dumb but I find a lot of hope in retrieving my old self simply through the excitement this trident has brought me. When we're done training, Beetee and I have lunch.

"I'm glad you like it," he says. I nod.

"It's incredible Beetee, you're a genius. I couldn't ask for more."

He chews on his sandwich and then gives me a meaningful look, "I know it's been hard for you. I know you've had a really difficult time pulling yourself back together. I just wanted to provide you with…some kind of distraction." He pauses and then adds, "In addition, it was fun."

I smile and let myself fully appreciate Beetee's effort. He, like most of the victors, knew I was being prostituted. He, unlike many here in Thirteen, understands what I've been through. How possibly I've been through more than most of the people here, and that's saying quite a lot.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Katniss and I eat dinner in the hospital together one night to watch the new propo. I can't decide if the whole thing is exciting, impressive, or ridiculous. Nonetheless, it's nice having a friend around in the hospital so I'm not by myself.

This new one is pretty incredible too. Incredibly disturbing. They show a lot of clips of Katniss and then some interviews with her fight team. A team I wish I had been on. Beetee's trident was pretty incredible though. It's when the bombs start raining down and all the people in the hospital die that I start to really lose my appetite. People are suffering and dying and all these people are concerned about is getting a good show of Katniss looking really upset about it. But it tells the story.

"People should know that happened. And now they do," I tell her.

"Let's turn if off, Finnick, before they run it again." I'm about to comply when she stops my hand. "Wait!" I watch as the Capitol seal comes on and announces a special segment. And then my mouth drops because I'm shocked. And horrified.

The Peeta that we saw in an interview merely days before is now fifteen pounds lighter and a lot sicker. There is no shine to his hair and heavy bags sink under his eyes where makeup can't conceal them. His hands have a tremor and his lips look dry and colorless. His skin has a pale, waxy quality to it.

_It's makeup. No doubt to cover bruises._

Every movement he makes seems to pain him. It doesn't take me long to realize that the interview we saw not long ago was probably filmed days after the arena blew up, before they got a chance to starve and torture him. I think Kat realizes this too because I hear her give a frail, "Oh, Peeta…"

Caesar opens it up with some energy, but even being the most renowned, seasoned show host doesn't allow him to completely hide his feelings towards Peeta's state. I think Caesar genuinely liked Peeta, though I can't figure out if what I'm seeing is sorrow, pity, or curiosity. Whatever it is, it isn't usually lingering so plainly under his façade as it is now.

"Looks like one of us needs to get more sleep," he jokes, giving Peeta a nudge on the arm. "How have you been?"

"Fine, a little stressed. Yourself?" Peeta's voice has a reedy sound to it.

_Like someone who just got punched in the throat._

"I'm managing as well as I should be," Caesar says with a kind smile. "How has it been living full time in the Captiol?"

"An experience."

Caesar doesn't wait for more because he knows nothing is forthcoming. He just moves into the real meat of why the interview is taking place.

"So I know you've been an advocate for Katniss's innocence in this battle, but lately she's been popping up in a lot of propaganda that many would describe as, well, farce. Any idea as to why that could be?"

"They're using her, obviously. To whip up the rebels. I doubt she even knows what's going on in the war. What's at stake."

That much is true. We have no idea what's going on, not even in my own district. "Is there anything you'd like to tell her?" Caesar asks. This is clearly a set up.

"There is. Don't be a fool, Katniss. Think for yourself. They've turned you into a weapon that could be instrumental in the destruction of humanity. If you've got any real influence, use it to put the brakes on this thing. Use it to stop the war before it's too late. Ask yourself, do you really trust the people you're working with? Do you really know what's going on? And if you don't…find out."

The second the seal comes on and the screen goes black, I know what I have to do. I shut off the television and turn to Katniss. I can read the shock and misery plain on her face. I hide my own. I hide how I'm wondering if that's what they did to Annie too. I hear footsteps.

_If they know she saw it, they'll never let us out of their sight. And in truth, maybe we can't trust them._

I grip her shoulders and use a commanding voice; "We didn't see it."

"What?"

"We didn't see Peeta. Only the propo on Eight. Then we turned the set off because the images upset you. Got it?" She nods obediently like a child and I point to her food. "Finish your dinner."

When Plutarch and Fulvia enter, we give a believable performance that says we saw nothing. It works. They believe us. And a few days later Katniss get the okay to take me outside. The fresh air feels so amazing I almost want to cry. We talk about Katniss and her problems with Gale and how he never mentioned Peeta. I tried to be supportive but we both knew that Gale committed an offence against her that she wasn't going to be quick to forgive.

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

I watch Peeta drag himself over to the food and water they set for him. Since the interview, they've taken his fake leg and have it propped against the wall outside his cage to mock him. He's looking worse by the day. One night Johanna got him to tell us what it was they do to him when they take him away.

"They inject me with something, I don't know what it is," he whispered shakily. He almost sounded a touch psychotic. "Sometimes it's just blinding agony. Like, every one of my veins is burning in acid. They tell me that I belong to the Capitol. They tell me that they'll inflict that pain on everyone I love if I don't do exactly what I'm told." He looked at us with wide eyes and sounded a little more childish, "But they don't tell me to do anything! They're just doing it for fun. And then…this last time…I felt woozier. And I can swear I saw Katniss try and kill me….but that can't be real."

I reached through the bars and stroked his hair, wincing at the bumps I felt underneath. "Of course it's not."

So now here we are. They've tortured Johanna and Peeta a lot these past couple of days, even though at this point I don't think they have a point to it other than to break them. To make them feel powerless. I'm sure Peeta having to crawl around his cell like a dog breaks his pride enough as it is. But his torture is all about the psychotic effect. They have rods with lightning at the end or syringes or whips. And they'll shout at him, threaten him. Sometimes they leave without doing a thing. Sometimes they hurt him once and then terrorize him into a state of disorientation. At one point he just covered his ears and screamed no matter what they did to him. All this has caused him to be jumpier and always, _always_, shaking.

"Annie Cresta," I hear Argen say. I look through the bars to see him standing with a pale Garcia at his side. I've never seen her before without all her silly outfits and overdone hair. Without it, now just in a plain jumper and natural hair, I can see she is actually kind of beautiful. Olive skin, chestnut hair, hazel eyes. She's a little younger than I thought she was.

"What's she doing here?" I ask, staring at Garcia. She looks like she's not slept in weeks.

"Oh, just helping me finish my little video montage," he answers with a snide grin. I see Tristan on his knees, the moment the bullet collided with his head.

"No, not again," I whisper, clutching the bars. Garcia's eyes met mine.

"Annie, I'm sorry," she says, "I never had any idea…how…how awful all this was. I never realized any of this would happen."

I nod because I don't know what to say. Then I hear the camera turn on and I'm being spoken to again. "Any words for the people back home?"

I look into the camera and then at Argen, and then at Garcia. When I say nothing, Argen shrugs and then casually lifts his gun and shoots Garcia in the head. The blood sprays and I scream, closing my eyes and going into the back of my cell to be alone. Someone says my name but I sit facing the wall and cover my ears with my hands.

_Shut out the world. Shut out the voice. You're a weak little girl. Silence is a choice._

_Thud thud thud. The floors covered in blood. Where is Garcia? Garcia's dead. Argen shot her in the head. They're coming for you, the monsters, they're coming. And when they get through your blood will be running. The floor is red what a beautiful color. One person is dead right after the other._

_And yet you're alive. So the monsters can find you. Alive because the monsters are not through. Dead you will be, dead you should be. Dead would be better than being like me. _

I finally lift my head and lock my eyes on Peeta. He's muttering something to himself while picking at a piece of stale bread on his tray. Argen says something to him through the bars and suddenly the tray goes flying and the remaining food paints Argen's face with red sauce and bread crumbs. I blink in shock and then feel terror as the man slowly wipes the food away with a gloved hand.

"Oh, you'll pay for that," he snarls and fumbles for the key to open the door. He gets in and takes out his wooden baton and cracks it over the protruding bones in Peeta's shoulders. He cries out in pain and I close my eyes when suddenly someone else is in the room, speaking to Argen very quickly.

"They need you," the man says, "It's about the bombing in Thirteen. They want to decide on a date and they need you to confirm."

Argen looks at all of us with a sneer. "Thirteen. You hear that? You three? Isn't that where all your loved ones are?" None of us answer. We stand there in horror. Argen turns to the peacekeeper and says simply, "I'm busy. Tell them I support the notion to bomb directly after President Snow's address. In the morning after at the very least." He then spins around and knocks Peeta against the bars with his stick. I fold in on myself and cover my ears, humming to myself the way Troy used to say I hummed. But I don't like the sound of my songs.

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

They have me give remembrances of a lot of fallen people from various Districts for this propo they're working on. It's fine by me; I want to be doing something to help. But at the same time, I wish all my jobs didn't make me so sad. I have to talk about Rue, about Marvel, about Thresh and many others. They tell me I did a great job. I'm not sure what that means in this context.

The night that they plan to air them, we all gather in a room. People are talking in excited whispers and I look for an explanation. Haymitch fills me in. "Beetee is going to broadcast our propos live, right over Snow's address," he says, "It's going to be the most defiant, in-your-face propaganda for the rebel side that's ever been committed."

When Katniss comes in we explain it to her too. And then it starts and we see Snow on the screen, addressing the nation. But none of us are prepared to see Peeta sitting off to the side by a map. He's on an elevated chair, his leg pulsing with some sort of beat and his forehead breaking out in sweat. "He's worse," Katniss moans. I take her hand to help anchor her in. I block out any emotions it wants to stir in me because I simply can't do it. I can't break again. Beetee's trident just brought me back.

Peetee is talking logistics about all the damage in various parts of the map. He's got a solid tremor going and his eyes keep darting from Snow to the camera to what I assume is the telecom telling him what to say. And all of a sudden Katniss flashes on the screen.

"He's done it! Beetee's broken through!"

Peeta's back on screen. He saw Katniss. He saw the rubble of his bakery. His home. He tries to keep reading, then I appear in my speech about Rue. The whole thing turns into a broadcast power battle, going back and forth between the address and choice lines from our propos. Even as Plutarch prances around like he just won the war, I stay still. I stay silent. Because I know what this will mean for Peeta, Johanna, and Annie.

Finally the screen cuts out and then a minute later, Snow's screen reappears. He's blaming us for trying to cover up incriminating evidence. Then he asks Peeta if he's got any last parting words for Katniss. He flinches at her name and then seems to go through a list of predetermined responses. "Kantiss…how do you think this will end? What will be left? No one is safe. Not in the Capitol. Not in the districts. And you…in Thirteen…" he suddenly bursts, as if struck by insanity, and screams, "DEAD BY MORNING!"

We hear Snow shout, "End it!" and there's chaos with Beetee throwing clip after clip up of our propo. But we all watch between these clips. Peeta is trying to say more as people rush around him.

"You have to get out..."

The camera is knocked over and we see the white tile floor. The sickening sound of a blow that I know is metal on bone contact. Peeta's cry of pain.

And the red of his blood splattering across the tiles.

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

"They're going to bomb Thirteen," Peeta mutters. After Argen nearly beat him to a pulp, the doctors fixed him up enough so that he could still be presented on camera when needed. We heard them reprimand Argen for using such revealing methods of punishment instead of something more easily concealed like poison or electrocution. He said he'd keep it in mind.

"That could have been a lie," Johanna tries to reason, "You know, to get to you."

"They'll be dead by morning," he whispers. I'm crying. I've huddled myself into the back corner of my cell and can't help but feel helpless. If they bomb Thirteen, we're stuck here forever with no hope of rescue. Maybe make us avoxes. If they bomb Thirteen, Finnick and whoever else is there, they all die. I imagine Fin being swallowed up in a blast, crushed by debris. I will never get to bury his body while I'm here. I'm never going to see him again. And maybe my family is there too. Maybe they went to Thirteen, and now they'll be bombed. Kai and Kiandra. Stephen. Echo and Pearl.

_Dead by morning. Dead by morning. Dead by morning._

"Annie! Shut it!" Johanna barks. Only then did I realize I was chanting that out loud. I allow my thoughts to gobble up the words and recite them in my head instead. Peeta has buried his head in his hands and is shaking. We've fallen apart.

Days later they come for Peeta. "It's your big day soon!" they announce with patronizing enthusiasm. They enter his cage and inject something in his arm. He clutches his arm and then suddenly collapses, screaming in complete agony. The peacekeepers shout over him and say, "This is how it works. You will _not_ say or do anything other than what you are instructed!" Peeta continues to writhe and moan even as the men leave. And then a couple hours later, just as he's started to calm himself down, they return and inject him with the poison again.

_Make it stop make it stop make it stop._

"You will not tell Katniss Everdeen, the woman who betrayed you, anything other than what you are instructed!"

This pattern was kept up all day and all the way through the night. I noticed they swapped guards halfway through. Of course, they wouldn't want to have the help get too tired.

Nothing I can do to help Peeta. Nothing. I just sit and stare at the wall and will it all to stop. I look around for something to kill myself with but I'm not very creative when it comes to weaponry so I couldn't find anything. I decide if I must, I'll smash my head against the wall hard enough to break my skull. Hopefully that will do the trick. At one point in the night I hear him cry to them like a drunken child. "I won't tell," he moans, "Please! I won't _tell._ Don't do it again. I don't want it again." They take his arm and jab him with the poison again. "_No," _he whines, "Don't do it. I won't tell!" It's so pathetic, so pitiful I get sick and make no effort to contain it. He sounds like a wounded animal, a pleading infant. When the pain returns his screams and cries hit a new octave that breaks my heart.

And finally, after 12 injections over the course of twenty-four hours, they return again. When they enter, Peeta has not yet recovered from the last poison. Argen pulls him up to face level and repeats the message. "You will not tell Katniss anything other than what you were instructed," he says. Peeta has been reduced to a sobbing, blithering, whimpering mess.

"I won't," he whines, "I won't tell, Argen. I promise. I promise I won't tell. Don't do it again. Please. I'll behave. I won't say anything they don't tell me to say."

"And don't you forget it," Argen says, dropping Peeta to the ground. "You're pathetic."

The relief is plain on Peeta's face. Johanna is looking at him with a mix of repulsion and pity. After a certain measure of time they take him away to be dressed and made up for Snow's big address.

Soon, bombs are going to rain down on possibly everyone I love.

_Peeta, if you find it in you, warn them. Please warn them._

When night falls I can see Peeta did find it in him. He must have said something because they bring him back covered in blood from a gash on his head and then continue to beat him senseless once he's in his cell. They take his leg again and put it outside. He's not even conscious as the blood flows from his body and into the drain. I only look away from him when I hear my cell being opened.

"You know who's bright and shiny face appeared in all those rebel clips?" Argen asks in a creepy voice, "Your boyfriend's. Yes, that's right. Him and his little friends tried to interrupt our program tonight. So now you're going to pay."

He shoves me up against the back wall with my arms far apart. He looks down and suddenly it's like his gaze has a slimy affect on my skin. With my arms pinned I can't cover myself and never before have I felt so violated. Even when Raff attacked me all those years ago. That felt drunk and impassioned. This felt sycophantic.

"You look so innocent," he growls, appraising me further, "So unlike what Finnick prefers. I'm surprised he's kept you for so long. You _must _be_ good."_

My skin crawls and I try to get away, but I can't. He throws me to the ground and slaps shackles on my wrists. He gets his stupid camera and goes off the to corner while others yank on the chains connected to the shackles until I'm nearly suspended from the ceiling.

"How much?" someone asks. Argen just says dismissively. "Make her pay."

I feel the first lash of the whip resound across my back. I pull and yank and tear at the shackles but can't get away. I'm struck again and it cuts over my previous wound.

_This isn't happening. None of this is real. _

_CRACK!_

_It's real._

I scream. They whip me again and I scream. It hurts. I'm exposed too much, in a way that Argen can just sit there and examine me with his eyes. I feel the warmth of my own blood run down my back and legs. It feels like my back is on fire, but it's the anticipation of the next whipping that really kills.

Finally it stops and Argen is up with a small rod in his hand. The camera is now recording from a stand. "You are rather beautiful in your own way," he comments, getting too close to me. Then he reaches out and slaps me across the face. "I wonder how your Finnick would feel if he saw this right now. Think he'd be mad? I'm not sure…"

My mind is swirling and I don't feel entirely here. Almost like I'm floating. I look across the room and will myself to see Finnick, but Pearl is there instead. She doesn't say anything but she almost looks disappointed. I want to reach out and hug her, I want to borrow some of her strength, but I can't move. The monsters have me trapped and I can't get away.

A jolt of electricity brings me back. Argen cuts me down from the chains in his hand I can see the electric prod he's used on Peeta and Johanna so many times. I try to twist away but the marks on my back scream in protest.

"Tell Finnick, right into the camera, how much you hate him," Argen demands, stalking over me. "Tell him how angry you are that you haven't been rescued. Tell him you never want to see him again."

"No," I protest in a weepy voice.

He jabs the rod into my side and I convulse momentarily. It feels like all of my bones have been singed. When I open my eyes he's in my face. "Tell him!"

"No…"

Another blow. He strikes me with the wand on the chest this time, and then again on the back of my knee. I'm sobbing on the ground but I can't say it. Saying it out loud would make it true. Make everything I've been denying true.

_Finnick's forgotten you. He's left you. _

_No he didn't. He's trapped in Thirteen. He's going to be bombed._

_He wouldn't be there if he was here, trying to get you out._

_You have no idea what his side of the story is. _

_He's trying to save you._

_Maybe they don't even know you're here._

_He'll be dead by morning, anyway._

_You want the pain to stop? _

_He'll be dead dead dead by morning._

_So he won't see this video._

_Or maybe the bombing was a bluff. Something to scare us._

"If you were really going to bomb Thirteen," I say through clenched teeth, "Then why bother recording all this to send to them at all?"

I'm hoping for some shock or realization on Argen's face, but his answer is quick. "In case he survives."

He sets the electricity on the wand low enough that he can jab me multiple times with only a short, painful zap. He strikes my neck, cheek, ribs, and feet. I don't know if I'm twitching because of the electricity or because of my nerves.

"Now tell Finnick, right into the camera sweetheart, just how much you hate him."

I look up at him pleadingly, "I _can't._"

Argen stands up in frustration. I'm crawl across the ground and hide under my cot.

_Hide hide hide, I can't go outside._

"You're insane right?" he asks as he and a few other Monsters in white robes set up some sort of shackled platform in my cell. "Have you ever heard of electroshock therapy? It's supposed to be very effective." His voice is so as-a-matter-of-fact that I feel sick. Next thing I know, one of them has a hose and I'm blown against the wall by the force of the water. I can't open my mouth or scream for help because the water will suffocate me. I try to turn away from the sting but they follow me. The most I can do is keep my frayed back away from them.

And then the hose stops and I'm pulled up by the arms and laid down on the platform. They strap down my arms and ankles and head.

"LET ME GO! LET ME _GO!" _I scream. But they attach wires to me and there's a blinding light in my eyes and then something gets shoved in my mouth so I can't speak. And then I hear the click of a dial and the hum of power and then feel as the current of lightning spreads through my entire body.

I can't move. I can't scream. I just thrash around in my bonds and feel the electricity surge through me, burn me, kill me. And when it stops so does my sight, because I think they kill me. Dead. I'm dead. But when my eyes open they're still above me and then the second round of electricity starts, reaching a higher peak than before. And then the world swims in little red dots and I believe I'm dead again.

_Black. Black as night._

_No more hope. No more light._

_Thirteen will end in a rain of blood._

_No more life. No more thud._

"Now tell Finnick you hate him," Argen whispers to me, "or you'll go through that all over again."

"I hate you," I whimper, hearing the camera click on, "I hate you. I hate you hate you hate you. You're a Monster. I hate you."

But it's okay. The Monster doesn't need to know. I don't hate Finnick. I hate the Monster.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

When I wake up again, I'm blasted with the smell of burning flesh. I blink to clear my eyes and look across the way to see the female avox dead in a chair with wires hooked up to her arms. Her hair is smoking and I know that's where the smell is coming from. But then I look over and see in the next cell over is the male red-headed avox. He's whimpering and covered in blood. I look and see six of his fingers and four of what looks to be his toes lying on the ground of his cell. There's a machine hooked up to him too, as well as several open and swollen gashes. Peeta is sitting on the floor of his cell, staring at the boy, and rocking himself.

"Katniss did this, Katniss did this to us," he whispers. I'm confused, but then I hear a voice and I look over at the boy's cell. I think his name is Darius.

"Are you going to tell us the rebel plots, or not?" Argen asks. Darius tries to say something, anything, but all he makes is this terrible choked animal sound. And then I watch Argen saw off his hand with a switchblade.

I only stay conscious long enough to see them take Peeta away again for another 'treatment.'

I fade back in. Johanna's head is shaved and Peeta is back in his cage. He looks confused and bewildered. Johanna's asking him what happened.

"They've done it four times now," he whispers, "once before my interview with Caesar. Then again before Snow's address. And now they've done it twice more."

"Done what?"

He looks at Johanna. "Why did we trust Katniss? Why didn't we see the mutt that she is?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Katniss. When I leave, they show me Katniss. But…it's not the person I remember. I watch her betray me. Try to kill me. I watch her kill my family. My friends. Why did I ever love someone like her?"

"Peeta, that's not how she is," I say.

"She's been lying! To everyone!"

"But—"

Peeta clutches his head and shakes it. "No. Wait. I know. There's something wrong. They're messing with my head. But I can't prove it to myself. I can't remember Katniss the way I think I should be. But I can't…I can't even describe it. Something's wrong."

"Peeta…"

Darius is screaming again. They're beating him with sticks.

"It's to get to me," Peeta whispers, "they're torturing him because of me. They know he can't actually say anything."

_How awful._

Darius says something that just comes out as a foamy gargle. They rip out hunks of his hair and leave it in piles on the floor with his fingers and toes. Something in my head clicks off. I go to the back of my cell, face the wall, and stare ahead unblinkingly. I hear Peeta be led away twelve more times, I hear his cries out for Katniss's blood. I hear Johanna's screams of pain. I hear Darius as he deteriorates over the two days and then one morning doesn't wake up. But it doesn't matter. I don't eat. Sleep. I barely blink. I've had enough. Somewhere Finnick's lying in a pile of rubble. My family is lost in some unknown fate. And here. I can't take it here.

I dreamed my life would turn out so differently. I never imagined this. I never could fathom this degree of hell.

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

_After the address, after the bombs have rained down on Thirteen for three days. Finnick has helped Katniss deal with her discovery in Snow's plan to use Peeta against her. Then Finnick and Katniss are taken to the surface to film a propo announcing that Thirteen is still alive, but they both have a break down and end up in the hospital._

I'm laying down in a hospital bed. I guess I lost it. Again. Oh well.

But then I notice someone's shaking me and I'm irritated.

"Go away," I mutter, swinging my hand at the unseen violator. But when I open my eyes it's Katniss and she looks…urgent. "They're going to rescue Peeta and Annie."

I sit straight up. "What?"

"They need us to function. So now they've decided to risk it all and save the prisoners in the Capitol."

Joy and relief spreads through me. "Perfect."

"Why?" now she's confused.

"Don't you see, Katniss, this will decide things. One way or the other. By the end of the day, they'll be dead or with us. It's…it's more than we could hope for!"

_Rescue. Finally. If she's dead, than I can be free. She won't be tortured anymore and any suffering on my part will be just that, for me, and at no one else's expense. And if she's alive…if she's alive, I'll never stop being happy._


	40. Chapter 40

_i was so excited to write this chapter i pulled an all-nighter and now here it is. and i have work in three hours and haven't slept yet. so i hope you appreciate the work! and if there's a lot of typos it's because i'm sleep deprived. Happy reading!_

**40**

**Something to Hold On To**

_The bombs are exploding above ground. We're deep underneath. So deep all we feel are rumbles from the blasts. I sit alone in my space, under my safety light, tying my knots. Annie could be like Finnick. She could be tortured for every single clip of me they showed. Katniss has just figured out what I've known all along._

"_This is what they're doing to you with Annie, isn't it?" she asks._

"_Well, they didn't arrest her because they thought she'd be a wealth of rebel knowledge. They know I'd never have risked telling her anything like that. For her own protection."_

"_Oh, Finnick. I'm so sorry," she says, taking my hand. _

"_No, I'm sorry," I tell her. "That I didn't warn you somehow."_

"_But you did warn me, though. On the hovercraft. Only when you said they'd use Peeta against me, I thought you meant like bait. To lure me into the Capitol somehow."_

"_I shouldn't have said even that. It was too late for it to be of any help to you. Since I hadn't warned you before the Quarter Quell, I should've shut up about how Snow operates." I tug at the ends of my rope and the slipknot unravels into a straight line. "It's just that I didn't understand when I met you. After your first Games, I thought the whole romance was an act on your part. We all expected you'd continue in that strategy. But it wasn't until Peeta hit the force field and nearly died that I—"_

_I hesitate. She seems to remember the incident and looks at me quizzically, the same look I gave her as she sobbed over Peeta's lifeless body. "That you what?"_

"_That I know I'd misjudged you. That you do love him. I'm not saying in what way. Maybe you don't know yourself. But anyone paying attention could see how much you care about him."_

_I think about the look she gives Gale when they're together. She loves him too, but again I'm not sure how. Well okay, Gale it's clearer. It's all about the passion. They're so alike sometimes it's scary and yet…there's a gentler side to Katniss that Gale lacks. No maybe that's not even it. Katniss has a need for a gentler side. Gale craves a fire to quell his own. I can see it go either way, but it depends on who Katniss decides to be. Enflamed with passion and fire or quenched by light and softened by compassion. We sit in silence, doing and undoing knots. Finally Katniss asks, "How do you bear it?"_

_I look at her in disbelief. "I don't Katniss! Obviously I don't. I drag myself out of nightmares each morning and find there's no relief in waking." I see her face start to contort with fear and I decide to hold back. There's no need to present her with a poor fate to resign herself to. "Better not to give in to it. It takes ten times as long to put yourself back together as it does to fall apart."_

_Believe me, I know._

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"It was hard to see because I was so afraid. Now I'm not. The Capitol's fragile because it depends on the districts for everything. Food, energy, event the peacekeepers that police us. If we declare our freedom, the Capitol collapses. President Snow, thanks to you, I'm officially declaring mine today."

Katniss's monologue about Peeta and the bread and then her declaration of freedom was both touching and inspiring. We have to film a distracting enough propo to divert attention away from the rescue team.

"Finnick, Haymitch, come here," Plutarch calls, inspiration twinkling in his eye.

"What's this about?" Haymitch asks.

"Finnick, we need to really grab them. You're a crowd favorite in the Capitol, even today. What do you say we reveal your biggest secret? Expose them all for the scumbags they are."

"Heavensbee, you can't ask him to do that—"

"Please Finnick. It'll catch them completely off guard. No one ever suspected you weren't with all those girls by choice. Show them who you really are."

"He's barely stable as it is!"

"I'll do it," I say.

"Finnick…"

"Atta boy, go take the seat in front of the camera."

I move to take Katniss's seat. She's looking at me searchingly and Haymitch is close behind. "You don't have to do this."

"Yes, I do. If it will help her," I tell him. I suck in a breath and wad up the rope in my hand. "I'm ready."

_Okay, just tell the truth. Give it to them straight. _

_But from where?_

_Just the beginning._

"President Snow used to…sell me…my body, that is." I see Estelle in her disguise as Marina. I see Lacey Templesmith twirling her blonde pigtails. "I wasn't the only one. If a victor is considered desirable, the president give them as a reward or allow people to buy them for an exorbitant amount of money. If you refuse, he kills someone you love." I see my father clutching his heart in the ocean, struggling. I see his lifeless form on the boat. I see my mother leaving. I see Annie standing on the stage at the Reaping. I see her behind bitten by a wolf and myself on my knees, pleading Ivan for her life. "So you do it."

I glance around. Some are staring at me intently, wanting more. Some look disgusted. Some look sad. Katniss looks ashamed. I press on with a little more confidence.

_For Annie._

"I wasn't the only one, but I was the most popular. And perhaps the most defenseless, because the people I loved were so defenseless." I see Annie laying out on the beach, screaming. Pearl holding her, rocking her. I see my mother again, to weak to stay where her dead husband once walked. I see Mags weaving baskets, humming some chantey to herself even after losing her ability to talk coherently after having a stroke. I even see Marina and Troy's family I swore to protect after his death. Defenseless, fragile. But so lovable. So worth protecting. "To make themselves feel better, my patrons would make presents of money or jewelry, but I found a much more valuable form of payment. Secrets. And this is where you're going to want to stay tuned, President Snow, because so very many of them were about you. But let's begin with some of the others."

To reveal what I know, to let it all spill out, is empowering. It's a relief, like lifting a giant boulder that's been sitting on your chest for years. I talk about all the twisted and terrible and eccentric tales of so many vital politicians. Their betrayals, their incest, they're lies and murders. The strange and perverted sexual appetites of my patrons. It takes what seems like hours to tell all of their stories out loud. As I do, as each secret passes my lips, I remember the face of the girl who told it to me. Estelle and Lacey emerge in many of them and I wonder what's happened to them in this battle. I see old women telling me of old politicians playing each other like a game of chess. I see young women telling me of their sexual excursions with powerful, married men. The lies of fathers, mothers, uncles, nieces, friends, enemies, allies, spies, and slaves, all the violations of humankind. Their relations with not only politicians but also with Mutts and family members. So many sick things. And finally, as I lay down the last thread of that web, I get to the man I've wanted to attack all along.

"And now, on to your good President Coriolanus Snow. Such a young man when he rose to power. Such a clever one to keep it. How, you must ask yourself, did he do it? One word. That's all you really need to know. _Poison._" A woman named Rubidella flashes across my memories. She had brunette hair and a mole on her cheek and heavily red lips. She was widowed by one of the victims of Snow's reign. She was eager to share her knowledge with an innocent slave such as myself. I start at the beginning and climb the ladder of his ascension into power. I point out all the deaths. All the tricky way Snow slipped the poison to his adversaries. It surprises me I remember their names so well seeing as I could never write the secrets down. I guess things like this stick with me.

"He used to deter suspicion by drinking from the poisoned cup himself," I say, "But antidotes don't always work. That's why—it's said—he wears the roses that reek of perfume. The poison left the most putrid, painful, rancid sores in his mouth and throat. Sores that will never heal. So to cover up the smell of the blood that snakes down his throat everyday, he has the roses. That's what they say, at least. That's what they all say. They'd always make sure to say that at the end. The woman that told me about your mouth sores was very quick to add the 'that's what they say' at the end of her story. But I could tell from the way she spoke that it was the truth. That she saw them herself, seeing as she was your doctor for a time. Pippi, I think her name was. No matter, she's dead now. How'd she die again? Bad shellfish? Isn't that interesting…the one with all the knowledge or Snow's medical history just mysteriously dies the same way Peter Ravens died the year before." I see Plutarch and Fulvia gasp at this. Peter Ravens was a well-loved man in the Capitol before his untimely death.

I remember one more secret and decide to add it. "They say there's a list. Snow has a list of victims, or people he needs dead. And no one, not even his closest adversaries, know who's next. For all they know, it'll be their necks tomorrow. And that unspoken fear knits his team together into sound support. The fear that at any moment, any mistakes, and they will fall with the snap of Snow's fingers. All he needs do is scratch their insignificant name off his list with his gold-plated pen, and they cease to exist."

"Snow is nothing but a snake. That's why his choice weapon is poison, he knows he's a leach. But eventually there comes a day where the snake can't coil itself around its prey anymore. When the victims it used to strangle have enough and turn on him. How does it feel to have the fangs sunk into your side, Snow? How does the poison feel when it runs in your own veins? To those who see this in the Capitol, let this be a warning. No good ever came from befriending a snake."

I sit there silently because I'm done. I'm spent, actually. I glance around, waiting for something. But everyone's too shocked and or mesmerized to move. So I finally hold up my hand and say, "Cut."

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

"Annie," Ivan calls in a singsong voice, "Oh, Annie! Want to come out to play?"

I rub some warmth into my arms but continue to stare at my wall.

_Go away you filthy wretch._

"You're looking thin darling, won't you eat? You're wounds aren't going to heal if you're body's too weak. You'll die of infection, and who wants that?"

_I do. Finnick is dead by now. And possibly my family. He probably never even knew I was here. _

_I'm trapped here for the rest of my life._

_So yes. Me. I'd like to die. Of infection. Of fire. Of anything. Because there's nothing left to live for._

"If you don't eat, we'll hurt Johanna and Peeta."

_You've already hurt them. There's nothing left you can do that'll come as a surprise._

Not long before this moment, they showed us the footage of Thirteen being bombed for three days straight. There's no way they could have lived. At one point Peeta was sobbing and then the next he was cheering because at least it meant Katniss would die. Johanna didn't say a word. She ironed her face clean and showed never revealed any sort of emotion at all.

"EAT SOMETHING YOU PATHETIC BITCH!" Ivan roars, throwing the food at me. I feel the bread ricochet off my shoulder and the glass of water shatters against the wall beside my head. I barely flinch. I hear him coming into my cell and I feel his slimy hand on my shoulder when suddenly all the lights go out.

"What the hell…" he mutters, dropping his hand off my shoulder. I spin around and knock him to the floor of the cell. I'm too weak to do any real damage, so I pick up the steel tray that used to carry my food and swing it down for his head. He avoids it easily and pulls me down to the ground. Before I can get up he has my pinned under him.

"Black black black, he's never coming back," I sing in a whispery voice, "Where's the lights? They're all dead. The Monsters are coming for your head."

Ivan looks at me with a glint of fear in his eyes. My song is scary to him? It fills me up too. It chills me. It makes me shake. But I want to sing it. I like to see the fear in him.

"_We're in the dark, dark as night. The world is spinning in a fight. The reaper is coming to reap your soul. Mine will rest out by the shoal. Yours will rot in pits snakes. With all the liars, cheats, and fakes. Their bones will reach up and tear your skin, the reaper is waiting for the fun to begin."_

"Shut up you psycho!" he shouts, slapping me across the face. I taste blood in my mouth and giggle.

"_Taste the blood in its metallic flavor. May the odds be ever in your favor. The night tonight will run with blood. Dead heart for Ivan, no more thud."_

"I said be quiet you—"

"Ivan," Argen whispers from outside the cage, "Stop fooling around. Something's going on in the weapons building. You're needed."

The beam of a flashlight hits us and I can see his face. Ivan looks at me once, regretful that he has to leave, and then stands. I creep after him as he goes, scuttling on all my limbs like a spider. Just as he takes his last step out I bit into his ankle and taste his blood. He shrieks and kicks me off and slams the door, but I hoist myself up on the bars and stare him down, the blood trickling from my lips.

"He's coming for you," I hiss, "The Reaper's begun his march."

"Get back," Argen barks, averting his eyes. Maybe I am truly frightening. How fun. My turn to torment. He slams the butt of his gun against the bars and I do back up, but I keep my eyes on them. I chuckle as the pain in my cheek tingles and the wounds on my back twinge with frustration. I slink back into the shadows, away from Argen's flashlight. They watch me go. I love the looks on they're faces. And suddenly red alarms are sounding and the exits to the prison slam shut. Argen and Ivan are trapped inside along with the two peacekeepers who were guarding the doors.

"Oh for the love of peace," Argen curses, slamming a fist against the door.

"That's an ironic statement," Peeta chuckles in a weak voice. Argen throws him a dangerous look when he's distracted by his radio.

"_A bombs gone off in Sector 27B. Commencing emergency lockdown procedure in all divisions. Captains, this is a code G19."_

Argen and Ivan look at each other as if all those numbers and letters actually mean something.

"_There's gas going off in Sector 9-30C and D. We're under attack. The broadcast is being tampered with. Code G19."_

"Man the doors," Argen barks at the peacekeepers who had wandered towards him for orders. He clicks a button and a projection of the broadcast is shown. I hear Katniss's voice and then it's interrupted by Peeta's angry protest.

"NO!" he shouts, kicking the bars, "She's supposed to be dead!"

Argen shuts off the program and turns to us. Then he reaches for some buttons by our cells and starts punching in a code. And then we hear gunfire and shouting and the emergency alarms shut off and all of the gadgets on the peacekeepers and Argen go off, leaving the only light source his one little flashlight.

_What is happening?_

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

Waiting waiting waiting. Beetee's done his best. He broadcasted my whole thing on Snow and parts of Katniss's story. I twist my knots furiously, my heart can't stop thumping. The seconds turn to hours. Hours hours hours. Tick tock. I feel like I'm going to be sick. My stomach churns and my chest cramps with the erratic rhythm of my pulse.

"Did you love Annie right away, Finnick?" Katniss asks me at some point.

"No," I answer. And then I think about that day when I saw her on the beach, when I realized I didn't want anyone else to have her. When I realized she was beautiful after years of bizarre and turbulent friendship. "She crept up on me."

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

I watch as Argen pulls out his gun and points it at the door where all the noise is coming from. I search for Finnick's voice but I don't here it. And suddenly the whole room fills with the noise of metal cutting through metal. It's a high-pitched whining sound that forces me to cover my ears and giggle. It's exciting. Whatever is happening is very fun.

And then there's a clunk and a hissing noise and I smell something strange in the air. Almost sweet with a sort of chemical tinge to it.

"Gas!" Argen shouts. His flashlight beam cannot penetrate the cloud of it coming from some device on the ground. It had been thrown through the freshly cut door. And then there's more screeching and the room is engulfed in the cloud of gas and the sound of screaming metal.

_Bang._

Footsteps and voices.

"Everyone has their masks on right? If I have to carry a single one of you out it's going to be by the ear."

I don't recognize that voice. I drag myself across my cell and place my hands up on the bars. The smog is making me feel light-headed and dizzy. There's some gunfire and shouts.

And suddenly there's a monster right in front of me. He's wearing a mask that makes him look like some kind of horrible bug that grew to human size. I scream and fly to the back of my cage.

He lifts a small electric saw blade and starts working on my bars. I glance around to see other men doing the same to Peeta and Johanna's cells. They have both fallen unconscious due to the effects of the gas. And then Argen appears from the smoke and I scream, but there's gunfire and he disappears. I hear the shouting of the peacekeepers and Ivan and then that too falls silent. Only a few moans of pain remain.

"He's been hit in the shoulder blade, he's still alive," someone says, "Keep working on those bars."

I don't want to fall asleep. Who knows what these new demons will do to me? So I hold my breath for as long as I can and when I have to breathe I use my hair as a curtain.

_Crash._

A section of my bars clatter to the ground, followed shortly after by those in the other cells. I shake my head and cower into the corner. The beetle-like creature enters my room with a light beaming and when he finds me I let out on involuntary scream.

"It's okay," it says, "don't be scared. We're trying to help you." He takes off the mask and underneath I see a kind looking man covered in sweat and funny imprints the mask left on his skin. "We're here to take you to Thirteen."

I'm too confused to speak, so I'm scooped up into the man's arms and he's carrying me out of the cell like I weigh nothing. I find Peeta and Johanna being carries as well. And there's some girl I don't recognize immediately. Then I remember her from the Quell.

Enobaria.

She looks completely unscathed. The gas makes my head feel funny and I let it fall back, but I will myself to stay away. I focus on the pain in my back. I focus on the sight of Darius's bloody body in the still closed cell with flies starting to eat his flesh. It's not right we don't free his body, we should help him…

My mind lapses and next thing I know we're running through a brightly lit hallway. There's a lot of shouting. There's gunfire and someone drops. He's scooped up by another and they keep moving. I feel like I'm on a bumpy horse. It's bizarre to see a new room when for months all I knew was my cell. I fade back out.

When I fade back in, I feel less tired than before. And then I see the metal ceiling and sit straight up. The floor is metal too.

"No," I cry in despair. _How could I be so foolish? To think I was really rescued. It was all just another one of your delusions._

"Hey, Annie, it's alright," someone with a kind voice says. It's a handsome boy with dark hair and gray eyes. He's covered with sweat and seems to be in pain, but he's sitting up. I look around and the room is full of people. And it's vibrating. Peeta and Johanna are on stretchers.

I snatch my hand away from him and back up. They've wrapped me in some kind of sheet. The feeling of fabric on my skin feels bizarre after all this time.

"Where am I?" I ask. My voice sounds so breathy.

"You're on a hovercraft, heading back to Thirteen," another man informs me, "Don't worry. We're not here to hurt you."

"You should eat something," someone else says, handing me some bread, "And drink. Have some water at least."

I take the items from her but I don't eat or drink them. I'm too distracted. I need to know more.

"We'll need to admit you to the hospital so you don't catch any infection," I'm told, "But for now just get your strength up so you can see Finnick."

_What?_

"Finnick?" I repeat, looking at them, "He's alive?"

"Of course. And very anxious to see you."

My world spins and someone catches my head before it hits the floor.

"Maybe you should stay down a while." I'm lifted onto another stretcher and marvel at how soft it feels in comparison to my cot in the cell. But my heart is pounding and I can't help but fidget. I even allow them to feed me. The vibrating hum of the craft lulls me to a restless sleep, but I wake the second it stops.

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

It's got to be midnight by now. I'm twisting another knot and thinking maybe it's all over when Haymitch comes crashing in. "They're back and we're needed at the hospital," he says, "That's all I know."

_This is it. Annie is either going to be dead or alive._

_I don't want to know. I don't want to see her dead._

Katniss grabs my hand and pulls me into the halls. There's chaos going on in the hospital wing. They wheel Johanna by us and I nearly get sick at the sight of her. She's got her head shaved and she looks starved. All over her body are bruises and oozing wounds.

_Find Annie._

If she looks anything like Johanna, I don't know what I'll do.

Then we pass Gale in a room, stripped down to the waist and coated in sweat. Katniss calls out to him and they attempt to extract a bullet from his shoulder blade with a long set of tweezers. A nurse pushes her out and closes the door, so we're forced to keep moving.

Annie. Where are you?

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

"We're here," someone says. They hold me down on the stretcher, saying I'm injured and shouldn't move. But I don't care. Finnick's here.

I think we might be underground. All I know is the second they wheel us inside, I'm springing off the stretcher and start running frantically through the halls. The bed sheet is tripping me up but I don't have enough concentration to fix it. I just need to find him. He must be here.

A hundred faces go by but none of them are him. "Where are you going?" they shout at me. "You shouldn't be here. You should be in bed!"

After what must be nine wrong turns I actually scream in frustration and kick a box of medical equipment. "Come on! You've got to be here somewhere, Fin."

I'm right.

I see him before he sees me. The sight of his face, it's like being hit with a sledgehammer.

"Finnick!" I scream, waving my arms at him. He's only a hallway away. His head turns and realization dawns on him. I'm running for him, tripping over medical supplies and the sheet. "Finnick!"

He's crashing towards me. His bronze hair. His sea green eyes. He's looking at me with the most relieved and indescribable expression that I feel tears try to spring to my eyes. And they would have too, if I wasn't so dehydrated.

We close the space in seconds and I slam my full body into him, lose my balance, and we fall over. I'm trying to squeeze him while stroking his skin and hair and feeling his face. "It's you," I sob, "It's you!"

"Annie!" he chokes out, stroking my hair while still keeping me locked firmly in his arms. I've missed him so much. I never realized how deliciously sweet it was to be held by him until this moment. All there is in this world is Finnick and I together, engulfed in one another. I finally pull back and put both my hands on either side of his face. He's crying and then he pulls up and presses his mouth hard against mine. There's a certain euphoria that hits me and I can't stop crying. I just fall against Finnick's chest in the middle of who knows where and drink up every bit of him. The smell of his skin. The feel of his hands. Everything. I missed every little thing. And now it's in my grasp again.

"It's okay Annie, you're safe now," he tells me, stroking my hair. I haven't stopped sobbing. "They can't hurt you."

"I know," I choke, through it's hard. I'm quivering. "But I missed you so much. I can't believe you're here. I can't believe this is real. I thought we were never going to be rescued. I thought you were dead!"

"It's over now, it's all over. I'm alive. I love you. I'm so glad you're okay."

"I love you too," I say through my sobs. I look at him again and shake my head in disbelief. "I love you. I love you. Love you. Love you."

He smiles and kisses me again with even more force. I can't believe it. I simply can't. It's surreal that this much joy could follow so much pain.

And then he stands and offers me his hand, "Come on," he says. I stand up to take it, but the second I straighten up, I feel my knees buckle and the world swims in black. Finnick catches me before I hit the ground.

"Annie, are you alright?"

_I'm saved. Finnick's alive and I'm rescued._

Even though I was slipping out of consciousness, I manage to find Finnick's hand and latch onto it. That way even in the darkness I still know he's there. Just as it used to be. Something to hold on to.


	41. Chapter 41

_I'm curious to see who's still reading this story that started reading it when i first started posting the chapters. Leave me a PM or comment if you are one of the originals that started reading in the first ten chapters! I can't even convey how grateful i am for the support and enthusiasm for the story from everyone. Hopefully if i start my own book, I can reach this many people with my own ideas. For now, happy reading! And yes! It's happy!_

**41**

**Sweet Candy**

"Is she going to be alright?" I ask in a low voice. I don't want to wake Annie up just yet; the doctors made it clear that I shouldn't.

"She's been traumatized. A patient with her mental condition rarely recovers from such an ordeal. Physically the whip marks on her back are mildly infected which may have attributed to her fever. There are also traces of burn marks on her hands and feet and a section of her hip. It looks like they were healed for the most part but missed in some areas. She needs to get her weight up and we're keeping her hydrated through an IV at the moment. Another day and I fear that sort of emaciation would have done some irreversible damage to her system."

I rub my temples and try not to picture all these terrible things happening to Annie. The doctor pats my shoulder mechanically; "Don't worry, she'll make a full recovery. Physically, at the very least. We just want to run a few tests and it'll be all about the recovery."

"What tests?" I ask. The doctor pushes his glasses up the brim of his nose and shrugs. "Basic ones."

"Like?" He doesn't answer. "What do you think they _did_ to her?"

"We're not sure," he says finally, "There's many things you can do to a person that wouldn't be immediately present on their bodies."

I look up in horror, "You think they might have violated her?"

"We don't know. They did find her completely naked in her cell. That's why we're checking."

Rage boils up in my chest and I bite it back down. When she's better, I'll ask her what happened. What I need to avenge. For now, I just want her to be better.

Now that there's time to look at her I can see past the immediate beauty and through to the damage. There's a pale bruise on her cheek. She's much thinner than when I last saw her at the Reaping and it looks like she hasn't slept for days judging by the dark circles under her eyes. They have her hands and feet bandaged and her back as well. As angry as I am about her condition, it's hard to stay mad when I'm just so happy she's alive.

I sit at Annie's bedside and observe at her intently for a while. And then I go find a brush from one of the kits and bring it back. As she sleeps I brush out her hair, letting it unravel like silky nets over the pillows. She stirs in her sleep and wrinkles her brow. I graze the crease in her forehead with a feather-light touch and will her to wake up.

_At least she didn't end up like Peeta. Or Johanna, for that matter._

"No, don't," she moans. The crease deepens and her fists clench. "Don't."

"Annie," I whisper, trying to draw her out of whatever terror is stalking her. She shakes her head and her face twists in concern.

"_Stop_!"

"Annie!" I shake her shoulders gently, "Annie, wake up."

Her green eyes snap open and lock on the ceiling. And then at the light. And then at me. She blinks in confusion. I rest my hand on her cheek. "It's okay, it was only a bad dream. You're in Thirteen now, you're safe."

Tears fill her eyes and she reaches for my hand. I want to cry with her. I can't even believe she's here. That I'm touching her. That she's crying. "What's wrong?" She isn't taking her eyes off me but tears are just brimming from them. "Are you in pain? I can get the nurse to—"

"I feel alright Fin, I don't need more meds."

I give her hand a squeeze. "Then tell me what's wrong."

She looks at me thoughtfully for a moment and then simply says, "Just stay with me a while?" She shifts herself over just enough to make room for my body to wiggle in on my side. I settle into the mattress as gently as possible so as not to upset any of her tubes. Lord knows they wouldn't let me stay if I made one of those machines go off.

When I begin to slide my arms around her, she winces and pulls away. I close my eyes and whisper an apology and settle for holding her hands in mine and pressing my lips to them. Her body feels too bony and cold against mine, in comparison I'm a fat bumpy furnace. She sucks in a big breath of air and I watch as the skin tightens over the bones on her chest and then relaxes. At this angle it's easy for me to rest my head on the crook of her neck. She doesn't smell the same anymore, she smells of the Capitol. It's a smell I know very well. But underneath it all I can still detect that bit of home I love so much—that touch of salt on her skin.

"What are you thinking about?" she asks. Her voice is quiet and frail sounding and she gives a little shudder when I accidently shift the blanket.

"You," I say honestly, "What happened to you. That you're here. All of it."

She's silent for a while and then asks; "Do you know how Peeta and Johanna are? And where Enobaria is?"

"I don't, I'm sorry. I've been with you the whole time."

"Right, of course. Sorry."

We lay there in silence and I think she's asleep. But then she speaks again. "Is this real? Or am I dreaming?"

I kiss her neck and trace her knuckles with my thumb. "It's real."

She's not sure. "And if it's a dream?"

"Then let's hope we don't have to wake up."

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

I can still feel Finnick's warm, shallow breaths on my neck even in my sleep. I'm back in the cell. There's bars for the doors and bars connecting me and Peeta's cells. Through his cell I can see Johanna lying on the ground.

"No," I whisper, hugging my arms over my chest, "I don't want to be here again."

Something's different. Everything's bathed in a reddish light. Across our cells is Darius's bloody, mangled body still draped over the chair he was tied to. Peeta and Johanna and Darius and Lavinia's screams all quietly echo in a grating chorus at the back of my subconscious. Darius's head is gone.

"_Annie…" _

I look to the bars and see Ivan standing there with a dark shadow across his body. The red light catches the gleam in his eye and makes my quake. "What do you want?"

"_Want a kiss?"_

He pulls his arm out from behind his back and there, dangling from his hand, is Darius's head. The eyes are still open and his mouth is ajar. There's frayed flesh dangling from the stub of his severed neck.

I scream escapes my lips before I have a chance to snatch it. My screams join the choir which crescendos to a double forte. Ivan is in my cell, he has the face in hand.

"What's wrong Annie? You don't want a kiss?"

The head slams into mine and knocks me backwards. I taste the droplets of his blood on my tongue and scream as Ivan forces the head on me again, his dead lips smooshing against my chin.

"NO NO STOP IT!" I bawl. I see Troy. I see Troy and I see Gerod swinging his head in front of me.

And then there's a gunshot and Ivan falls over dead. I look up to see Tristan who shot him and beckoning me out. I run out of the cage only to come face to face with Peeta, or what's left of him. He's eyes are entirely black and there's a foamy blood substance running down his mouth and chin. His nails are long and chipped like talons. He's a Monster. No, worse. He's a mutt.

He opens his mouth and leaps forward to take a bite straight out of my—

"Annie!"

I come to, to see Finnick directly above me. Relief and warmth spreads through my fingertip all the way up my arms and lets and into my chest. He hugs me to him as tears start pouring down my face. There's nothing I can do to stop them and secretly I wish I was still dehydrated enough to hide them. "They destroyed them," I moan into his chest.

"Who? Who did they destroy?"

"Darius. Peeta. Johanna. Tristan. Garcia. Everyone."

"Wait, Tristan? Garcia?"

I nod and remember suddenly that this is news that will probably upset Finnick. "I'm sorry Fin. They executed Tristan and Garcia. There was nothing I could do to stop them…"

"Sh, Annie it's alright, I know. There was nothing you could have done." I cry myself out on his chest for a while and when the tears finally stop I force myself to be silent so I wouldn't hurt him further. I feel his chest rise with a heavy sigh. "I used to be able to ward off these kinds of nightmares," he says.

I trace my fingers over his collarbone. "They've gotten stronger, that's all." I let my hand fall down onto the sheets and marvel at how soft it is. I'm so used to my wooden cot that the softness is still too shocking to absorb. And suddenly I'm back there, we're laying on a slab of wood attached to a metal wall by chains. The room is dark except for the pale light refracting across the ground in rectangular patterns. The patterns of prison bars. I blink and rub my eyes and I feel the softness of my bed, but the image doesn't go away. Was I dreaming the wonderfulness of where I was? Are we really still in the same hell, only together?

"Where are we?" I whisper.

"We're in the hospital in Thirteen," Finnick answers patiently.

"Describe it."

"It's mostly white, very clean. Smells like cleaning supplies. The bed is on a metal stander but it's white and soft too. There's a few machines hooked up to you and there's a large window for the hallway but I've closed the curtains over it so we don't get stared at. The curtains are a pale greenish color."

I close my eyes and nod and will the room to come back to me. When I open my eyes, the clean white light blinds me a minute and I'm back. And Finnick is there. A little worse for wear, a little more haunted looking, but he's still Finnick. Golden, glowing, beautiful, with a hopeless mop of bronze hair. I hold the back of his neck and pull him into me far enough that I can slam my lips on his. I taste the relief, the security, the whole that is Finnick. It's like kissing sunlight.

"Easy," he whispers with a smile, "We don't want to set the machines off."

I smile and then remember something important I wanted to tell him. "I have good news for you."

"And what's that?"

"Ivan was one of the prison holders. I beat him up once. And now he's dead."

"_What_?"

"He got shot when the rescue team came. I saw his body on the ground through the smog."

Finnick was silent for a while. Contemplating Ivan. Mourning Tristan. Even mourning Garcia.

"Tristan was very brave," I tell him, "And Garcia. She's quite beautiful without all that Capitol mumbo jumbo smeared all over her face."

I hear him sigh and play with the end of my hair. "A lot of them can be, I think. Did you really beat up Ivan?"

"Yep. Scared the daylights out of him."

Finnick laughs and kisses my head. "I love you."

"Love you too."

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

"Ouch!"

I wince as I watch them remove Annie's bandages and put new ones on. The whip marks on her back still have angry red flesh along the edges of the cuts and there's still some infection. When they asked Annie how long ago this happened, she couldn't give a straight answer. She guessed three or four days, though they all blend together after a while.

"I remember though it was right after President Snow's address," she says mistily, "They brought Peeta back covered in blood because he blew the attack. They were angry because I guess you guys interrupted their program."

Heavensbee and Beetee nod and look apologetic, "They punished you guys pretty badly for that then?"

She nods a little distantly and we watch her eyes slide into an alternative time and place. She focuses so hard on one spot of thin air that I have to look to see if anything's really there, but there isn't.

_Because of me. They hurt her because I showed up in the propo._

Heavensbee dabs his forehead with a cloth and dismisses himself. Beetee stays and sits next to me.

"How is she progressing otherwise?" he asks.

"Alright. She's tired but she has a lot of nightmares. It's like she relapsed a little bit but not entirely. It almost seems like, sometimes, she's stronger than she was before. Did you know she beat up my former planner in the Capitol? The one that always arranged my meetings with the girls? She attacked him in the prison cell."

"Johanna's come to a few times. She mentioned Annie did pretty well for the most part. But she couldn't say much else. But Finnick, not to pry, but have she given a reason as to why she was found without clothing in the cell while everyone else wasn't?"

Hearing him say that makes my stomach churn. "No she hasn't. Nobody's asked her yet. Did Johanna or Peeta mention anything about it?"

"Johanna's barely been awake long enough to say anything…and Peeta…he's a little unreachable at the moment."

"Why what's wrong with him?"

Beetee pushes his glasses up the ridge of his nose and sighs. "He tried to strangle Katniss. He's been hijacked, we believe. It's when they use tracker jacker venom to make memories—such as Peeta's memories of Katniss—frightening. So frightening that, in her presence, he may see her as a threat and try to kill her. Snow has managed to send his greatest weapon right through our doors without us even blinking."

"Oh Katniss…is she okay?"

Beetee purses his lips and simply says, "She will be, I think. Once we get Peeta on the mend. We're all okay eventually. Don't concern yourself with it now, just focus on Annie. She requires your attention the most."

He pats my shoulder and then leaves, the sliding door opening its mouth for a brief moment to let him in, and then swallows him up the moment its jaw slams shut. The nurse is wrapping Annie's new bandage around her torso and reminding her to get plenty of rest. We're also informed that they are going to up her pain medication just enough to eliminate any chance of dreams. When the doctors and nurses leave the meds have kicked in and Annie is grinning up at the ceiling stupidly and twirling the end of her hair with her finger.

"Okay, I know it's improper to take advantage of your drug-induced stupor," I say with mock cordiality, "but it's time I think to answer some questions, if you're up to it."

She grins widely at me and blinks a few times, "Ask _away,_ darling."

I chuckle and take her hand. I can't stand not to be connected to her somehow; like if I let her go then she'll disappear again and this time forever. "Okay, first, did Johann tell them anything?"

She rolls her head to look at me and raises her eyebrows drunkenly, "What do _you_ think?"

"No?"

"Correct." She giggles and touches my cheek, running her fingers across my nose and around my ear. I incase that hand in mine as well. "Next question."

"Okay," I say, "Were you fed enough?"

"We were fed twice a day. Okay, well Peeta and I were. Johanna and the avoxes got fed once. But we always shared with Johanna. We couldn't reach the avoxes though. We tried tossing some bread to them but it just hit the bars and rolled away. When Argen found it we got in trouble so we decided not to anymore, for everyone's sake."

"You're so thin though…"

"I stopped eating."

I look at her eyes but they're too inebriated that I can't read any substance in them. "Why?"

"Next question."

_Okay, drop it. Work on that one later._

"Why didn't you have any clothes when they rescued you?"

Annie blinks and then recoils her hands. I regret asking it immediately, I knew it was too far. And I did it anyway. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked, you weren't ready to answer. Forget it."

"It's not what you think," she says in a quiet voice, "How can you think that? How can you think I'd let them…"

"I never thought you _let _them…"

"They took my clothes to punish me for attacking Ivan," she tells me, "So that I could 'freeze every night as a reminder of what I did and the consequences if there's a repeat offence. They didn't take my clothes so that they could…leer…but, I think they wanted to. I don't know. Sometimes the way they'd look it was like they wanted to devour me."

I'm silent for a second and ask the last question I can bear, "And the burns?"

"All part of the fun."

I put my head down on her bed in misery. "Annie, please forgive me. I should have been more careful…I should have warned you somehow. Or tried harder to get you rescued…I'm so sorry."

I feel her hand on my hair. "You're already forgiven. We promised never to punish ourselves for anything that the Capitol does, remember?"

"But—"

"Fin, shut up," she cuts over me. When I look up she's grinning too widely again and I start to see the droop in her eyelids the drugs caused. "I don't want to talk about past miseries, okay? I don't want to watch you beg for forgiveness. Up until about two days ago I thought you were dead, and yet here you are. Alive. So all the rest pretty much gets left at the wayside."

I open my mouth to say something but she puts a bandaged finger over my mouth. "Show me you're real," she whispers, "Because I'm still not sure I believe it." Her eyes are twinkling with mischief and her hand drops with a little flourish. When I don't move—I don't know what move to make really—she hooks the bandaged finger under my collar and pulls me up to her face. "Show me you're real."

I rise up as she pulls me until our lips connect. Hers are too hot with fever but I ignore it. The fire sweltering in my body forces me to ignore it. She's hungrier than I expect because she sits up and wraps her arms around me and tangles her fingers in my hair. This is how I can tell her how much I missed her, what it did to me to have her gone. Slowly, so as not to hurt her or anything, I climb onto the bed until I'm overtop of her. I move my lips down her neck and into the dip in her collarbone, tracing its ridge with my lip. She digs her fingers into my back and twists her head so she can kiss just under my earlobe. The fire blazes up and ignites every cell in my body. We're breathing heavily and our fingers are fumbling until I think we've gotten totally lost in one another.

That is, until I hit a wire and the machines go off.

The chorus of beeping rings out and realization hits so we just stop what we're doing. A smile stretches involuntarily across my lips and I moan, slowly sinking my forehead down on her shoulder. I feel her chest rising and falling with laughter. I can't stop myself from chuckling too. "Oh, now we've done it," she giggles. I hear the door open and the sharp tone of an irritated nurse. "Off," she commands in a tight voice. We're both still laughing like school children with our hands caught in the cookie jar. I climb off with my hands raised but the nurse clearly isn't amused as she reattaches the tube to Annie's arm. To her good graces Annie manages to bite back the most of her laughter, but one amused look over the nurse's shoulder wins us both a glare equivalent to a good slap on the wrist.

"If you want to stay in here, we're going to have to get you a separate bed," she tells me in an authoritative voice, "And you two will have to behave!"

Next thing I know, I'm tucked into a different bed a good five feet from Annie's, under the supervision of a nurse who can't stop tapping her foot. She leaves eventually, but not without casting us a warning glace and pointing to the new security camera they set up. We nod deeply to show we understand how serious our offence was. Of course, as Annie and I both know, the camera isn't actually recording because the red light is off. But we pretend anyway.

"Look what you did," Annie accuses, humor still gleaming in her eyes.

"Me?! What about you! You're the one that was all like, '_show me you're real.'_ I am the _victim_ here!"

"You're the one that set off the machine you bloke," she laughs, chucking her pillow at me. I catch it and look at her in over-exaggerated shock.

"Oh, I'll show _you,"_ I growl, tossing the pillow back. The flat side hits her square in the face and flops over the side. We're both laughing and I'm about to climb out of my bed when the door cracks open and the nurse's head pops in. I immediately sink back down and fold me hands innocently, throwing her my best smile. She leaves again and me and Annie just look at each other, laughing softly, until the drugs get the better of her and she falls asleep.

_See? She's still Annie. She's okay._

_We're all okay eventually._

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

I walk down the hallway to where they told me Peeta's room lies. I know I've found it when I see Gale standing at the window, peering in with a complicated expression. I silently join him, getting a good look at Peeta for the first time since they returned. He looks miserable, and to top it off they've strapped him down like some kind of animal. I don't like it. After all he's done…after all they've done to him…

"I'm never going to be able to compete with that," Gale sighs, leaning his forehead on the window. "No matter what amount of pain I'm in, I'm never going to suffer more than him."

There's some nurse in there with a clipboard and Peeta's screaming at her until he's red in the face. I don't know what it is, but I don't like the taste of Gale's words. "I know it sounds selfish," he continues, "But what does it matter? It doesn't change anything. She's never going to be able to be with me while he's like this."

I nod because it's true. "You really have no idea what they went through," I say, "What _he_ went through. For her."

Gale sighs and shakes his head, "No, I do. Well, I have an idea anyway. And that's why he wins."

He leaves and I shake it off, watching now as the nurse leaves and Peeta falls back into his pillows asleep. No doubt that tube in his arm is meant for emergency drug doses.

He's skinny. Bruised. Haunted and scarred looking. From what I heard everyone around here thinks he's deranged, no hope of repair. But I can see the state of mind he's in quite well.

And I've seen worse.

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

I don't know how long it's been, but they're letting me get up and walk around now. I've actually been down to see the cafeteria area. My fever broke a few nights ago and I'm already feeling some of my weight returning. My back is healing nicely now too. It won't be long until I can sleep outside the hospital. I guess they've disregarded my delusions and nightmares to a relapse in a pre-existing condition.

I now know that my family is still fighting somewhere in the Districts, but no one knows if they're alive or not or even where they are exactly. It's almost a relief because somehow I'm not sure it's safer here. I also learned that Enobaria refused to be rescued and was left behind in the Capiol.

Now I've heard whispers of Peeta's condition and it breaks my heart. All I can see is the boy who held my hand through the bars and offered me his jacket. The ray of hope to me and Johanna through one of the darkest times of my life. I don't know who this monster is that everyone keeps talking about, but it's not Peeta. I don't care what they say.

Katniss—apparently recovered from Peeta's attack—has run away to Two with Gale and lots others for an attack. Finnick and I join a group of people that includes Coin and watch on television as they bring us to her live.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you," a man, a desperate man, says to her. He's got a gun pointed at her head. She looks awful.

"I can't."

In an impressive display of inspiration, she gives a heartfelt speech asking why the districts are fighting each other. How we should all be a team. How the Capitol is bad. How they should join together.

And then we watch her get shot on live television.

"Whoah!" Finnick shouts, jumping to his feet. I cover my mouth in shock as the footage cuts out.

"Do you think she's okay?" I ask.

"I don't know!" he responds, staring up at the screen in shock. Coin has her lips drawn in a sharp line. She's not upset, she's calculating. Like the amount of damage the Mockingjay's death could cause can be measured in numbers. Then a machine on her wrist beeps and someone's voice cuts across the struck room.

"She's alive, the bullet didn't get through the armor. Bruised though. We think it ruptured her spleen. We have her in emergency surgery now."

"Ten-four."

I reach out and take Fin's hand. "See? She's going to be okay."

"Get a room ready for her upon their return," Coin commands, "For heaven's sake, if she could just take orders for _once…_"

She leaves the room in a huff, each footstep striking the ground and resonating with importance. I used to wish I could be the kind of woman that Coin is; tough, important, commanding. Now though, having Finnick's fingers locked in mine, I'm glad I'm who I am. Fin would never love someone like Coin. He smiles down at me as if to confirm my thoughts.

"Come on," he says, "Let's go wait for them."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

I stand outside the window with my hand raised against the glass. They've improved on Peeta's condition, but they still wont let me visit him. Seeing him in the hospital bed with machines, tubes, and straps is like looking at a completely different person. And yet, I still see the real Peeta there. Especially right now, it's almost adorable how he carefully spoons himself some chocolate pudding. I just wish I could talk to him, let him know that I know exactly how he feels.

_You'll get your chance._

So I visit Johanna now. She's cut up and damaged still but she does look like she's healing.

"You look like you're feeling a little better though," I say encouragingly, touching the new downy hair coming in on her head. "Are you feeling better?"

"A little," she says. She seems really put out all the time. I never really got that from her character while we were locked up together, but I guess everything was different there. Come to think of it I remember her being rather grouchy in the arena too. "They stuck me in the room with our little Mockingjay, so my mood is determined by how much of her meds I can sneak before getting caught."

I laugh and then find myself staring at Ivan who's standing in the corner, glaring at me. There's blood pouring from a wound over his heart. A gunshot wound, to be exact. I jump at the feeling of a finger tapping my arm. "You still there, Annie?"

I look back down at Johanna, register that Ivan is not really there, and give her a smile. "I'm here."

She chuckles and shakes her head at me, "Well you're a real basket case, aren't you?"

Mean. But yet, I can't find any offence in it. "Yeah, a little bit." That makes her smile which makes _me_ happy. The more Johanna smiles, the better.

"How's Peeta?"

I shake my head, "Pretty rough shape still. But getting better, I think."

She sighs and looks up at the ceiling. "Dammit."

"Yeah."

"Well, you look happy anyway," she notes finally. "Finnick's been happy to see you then?"

"Yes, he is," I tell her. "It's the happiest I've been in a while."

"Good for you. You two are good for each other; both a bunch of nuts. But lovable all the same."

I think that's the closest to a compliment I'm ever going to get from Johanna Mason. So I pat her shoulder and say thanks before leaving. I don't know what happened in her life to make her the way she is, but I admire her. She has no one to live for, no reason not to reveal every secret to the Capitol, but she kept her mouth shut anyway. I never could achieve that kind of strength.

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

I've got Annie's hand locked in mine and we are sitting at a table with Heavensbee. I don't particularly like the cafeteria food, but it's better than nothing. Annie never complains. Heavensbee looks flustered.

"I just don't know what we're missing," he mutters, tugging his hand through his hair, "We've got to try something different…but what? How do we inspire people now? _How_?"

He dives back into his soup and Annie and I look at each other and shrug. "What do you have in mind, Plutarch?" I ask. I don't know if I can help, but I feel bad just letting him stress alone. I think I can smell burning from the speed that his thoughts are running.

"I don't know. We need joy, that's it. We need something to throw in the face of the Capitol and say, 'Hey! Look! You can bomb us and kill us, but we're still okay!' You know, that sort of thing."

Annie raises her eyebrow at him and takes a sip of her soup. I keep trying. "Name something, like give some examples of what you think would work, had you no restrictions."

"Well, let me see," he begins thoughtfully, "maybe a dance. A really big party. Or at least a song maybe, we could all sing…no, that's dumb. We could get shots of everyone playing games and laughing, but that's not really what's going to strike people. Maybe a birthday, or a wedding, or just _something_ of _some_ substance…"

An idea—no, more like an old promise—springs up in the back of my head. I look down at Annie and my clenched hands.

_I don't want to let her go. I want us to be connected. What's the point of holding back now, anyway? What have we to lose?_

"Annie, want to go for a walk?" I ask casually, "Maybe it'll help us get our minds moving so we can help poor Plutarch over here."

She nods slightly and we finish our soup quickly. "We'll be back," I promise him, "Just going to go brainstorm."

He's so lost in his own thoughts he doesn't even respond.

I take Annie into the halls until I'm certain we've reached a spot where no one else is. My heart is pounding so hard I actually press my fingers over my chest just to feel it thumping against my bones.

"Annie," I begin, finding I hard to choke out the words.

"Yes?"

_Just spit it out, nimrod._

"You know I love you more than anything…"

"And I love you more than everything. What's your point?"

I rub the back of my neck and feel so stupid. How can I still be this nervous?

"Well, a long time ago I promised that if I ever retired from the Capitol, I would marry you. And…well…I don't think I'm ever going back there. And Ivan's dead. So I believe that means I'm free."

She's looking at me, but doesn't say anything. I have her attention, though.

"So now, I guess it's long overdue…I wish I had some flowers or something, but they don't let me outside by myself…I…there should be some more ceremony, this isn't right…"

I'm tumbling over my words like an stuttering child. She opens her arms impatiently. "Out with it, Fin!"

"Would…Would you like to marry me, Annie?"

She blinks and stands there still. I don't see how it could be a surprise at this point, but I guess hearing the words out loud anyway are a shock. I know they tasted bizarre in my mouth too. And suddenly she turns up her noes and straightens her shoulders.

"Nope, sorry. I've outgrown you."

She starts walking away and I stand there with my mouth open, shocked, waiting to see if this is a joke or not. And just as she reaches the door, she spins around with a wide smile and comes crashing into me.

"Of course," she says, kissing me hard on the lips. I kiss her back and return the embrace.

"You had me going there for a second," I laugh. She rolls her eyes and kisses me again until eventually we just fall over onto the ground and stay there a while. As long as we can until people start moving to new activities and we are forced to move so we're not discovered.

"I love you," she says when I take her hand. I'm trying to find Plutarch.

"I love you," is all I say back. I find Heavensbee and when we make eye contact, I raise Annie and my locked hands in the air victoriously. I can't stop the smile from brimming over. "Plutarch! We have your celebration!" He's looking at me with wide-eyed confusion, and then it seems to register and he quickly begins to grin like a little boy who's been presented with cake.

"A wedding, I hope?" he asks in a high voice.

"A wedding indeed, have at it," I tell him with a cordial slap on the back. He pumps his fist in the air with excitement and congratulates us.

"I think we've just started the social ruin of Thirteen," Annie whispers to me. She's still shy around all these strangers. I grin and kiss her cheek.

"Yes I believe we have. Leave the planning to Heavensbee, I'm sure he'll make it quite the affair. Coin's hair will be gray and white by the end of the week."

She smiles and then I pull her into a quiet corner, away from the whispers of excitement already beginning to spread. I kiss her passionately, moving from her lips to her neck to the crown of her chest and back. Is it wrong to be so happy, while everyone else seems so miserable?

_No, _I think, _this is our moment. Our time. Who knows how long it's going to last?_

If I get my way, then forever, might be sufficient. And in this time, at least for now, we're not just the kids who got caught with their hands in the cookie jar. We're kids in candy store, marveling at colors, shapes, flavors, everything life has to offer. We have the sweetest things in life wrapped up in our hands and we're inches away from tasting just how sweet they really are. Our eyes are wide, our lips are smiling, and happiness is so thick we can cut it, weigh it, and wrap it up. But why would we? When we're so content shopping the shelves and piling our joy on top of more joy and more, immeasurable felicity. A few more days—a drop in the ocean compared to all the years we've been together—and Annie and I will be permanently connected. Sworn together, be together, live together. And honestly, what could be sweeter?


	42. Chapter 42

_To answer a guest's question, yes i do make all the songs up. Katniss mentioned a song that likened marriage to a sea voyage in the book, so i tried my best. hard to do that without sounding cheesy..._

_Anyway, thanks for all the incredible support! So many people commented on 41 to let me know when they started (a lot of originals) and literally turned me to a pile of goo with all their warm compliments. Some of you are so dedicated to this story i can't even express my appreciation for your reads, reviews, and follows. If i ever publish a book, i'll see if i can post another chapter on the end of this and announce it's title and whatnot. Not sure if that's allowed..._

_And without further ado, Chapter 42. Happy reading!_

**42**

'**Til We Meet the Shore**

"Plutarch, really, it's fine. We don't need to go out of our way here, I'll just wrap a sheet around me a few times, tie a belt on and there we'll have it."

He looks at me like I'm insane. Okay, I am by definition insane. But not when it comes to this. The wedding so far as been a symbol of excitement, fun, stress, controversy, culture, and painstaking social interactions. Heavensbee has fought Coin tooth and nail for every guest on the list. Personally, I think everyone should be allowed to come. Why should we discriminate against others and rub our fun in their faces? But that's how Coin's playing it, so I guess those who do come will feel really special.

"Annie, understand that your wedding is a beacon of light not only to the people in Thirteen, but to people in _all_ the districts. They need to see some joy, happiness, and celebration. What you may consider to be 'minor details' is what I consider to be complete and utter necessities in pulling this whole event off! If we all—"

He continues to ramble on with his rant so I tune him out and stare at the strips of chicken covered in red sauce on my plate.

_Darius's fingers. His blood. On your plate, on everybody's plates. You're consuming him. _

I push my plate away a little and look up to see what part of the rant the exigent man was at. The importance of the dress. Of course. I remember Echo and I on Pearl's wedding day obsessing over how beautiful her dress was. If this was all on my terms and we were being married in Four, then I would have liked to wear that same dress. But I'm here. And we can't go back right now. So something else will have to do.

Katniss enters in and sits beside the reddened gamemaker. She pops a finger—chicken strip—in her mouth and watches him cautiously.

"I mean _honestly!_ We can't have entertainment she says. We can't have a dinner, she says. We can't even have alcohol! I mean, it's like Coin doesn't even want the wedding to work! And now the bride has nothing to wear. Nothing! And she's the main piece in the storyline here, the peacock amongst pigeons! But what have we got? A mundane wedding and a bride wrapped in a bed sheet. What's the point of the propo if no one's having any fun?!"

"I can bring Annie to my house in Twelve," Katniss says, "I still have all my clothes Cinna designed for the Victory Tour."

"What about the wedding dresses?"

"Sorry, those all went back. But it's better than nothing right?" she looks at him hopefully and then adds, "_And_ we could snag one of Peeta's suits for Finnick while we're there."

Heavensbee finally nods and looks at me. "You two are about the same size, I'd say. Waist-wise anyway. You have a little more…" he waves his hand erratically over his chest area, "Well, we'll manage. Thank you, Katniss. It's a very generous offer."

"My pleasure."

They both resume their eating and I have to look away when he bites his chicken strip and gets red sauce on his hands. I can still hear the sound of him slurping in off his fingertips when he greets Finnick, who's just sat across from me and next to him.

"You okay?" he asks casually, looking at my untouched plate. I nod and ignore his eyes because I know they'll be sending me some kind of message. He sends the message anyway by pushing my plate towards me. "It's just chicken and tomato sauce Annie. It's just like fish, only these animals lived on land. That's all."

Plutarch glances at me like 'how could they be discussing something so trivial' before returning to his food. "We were just discussing my wedding dress," I tell him, "Katniss volunteered to take me to Twelve for one of Cinna's dresses."

Finnick is much better at interacting with these people than I am. At best I pass as shy and nice. He's funny, self deprecating, charming, lively, what have you. I don't know why he even bothers with me sometimes. He immediately takes that information and gets Heavensbee going on everything positive he can. I just shake my head, close my eyes and eat before images of Darius's fingers return.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

So now I'm on the hovercraft. This is the first time that Katniss and I actually get some alone time, and I can't help but feel I'm being scrutinized; as if she's using this time to learn everything there is to know about me and the rumors about my sanity. It doesn't help that—since I'm away from Finnick—I'm seeing and hearing things left and right. Tristan in a corner with black blood pouring from his head. The Sandy monster lighting different parts of the room on fire. Mags weaving a net for the wedding. Whenever I see them, I see Katniss try and figure out what I'm looking at and have to return. She's nice though, she seems to be able to look past my behavior.

Who's with us is her prep team, a group of three little people with funny skin colors and hairstyles. They seem excited to be doing something in their element. One of them makes a comment to Katniss that she should take care of her hair the way I do. They don't realize I pretty much do nothing at all to it, but it's flattering.

When we land I make sure I don't look around. I know Twelve was burned down and honestly I can't look or I'll break down. Katniss leads us into her home after her victory—a little less extravagant than what's available in Four—and we follow her into the bedroom containing a large closet. Something strange happens when she opens it though. All of a sudden all the chatter dies and the four of them stare at the closet as if Cinna was standing in there himself. One of the poor funny looking people falls down and rubs a skirt against her cheek, crying; "It's been so long since I've seen anything pretty."

True. The colors and vibrancy—even the smell lingering behind on the clothing—is captivating after so much darkness. I guess that's why he was considered the master of his trade.

"I'm going to go to Peeta's house and find Finnick a suit," Katniss says, "Help yourself to anything you want."

So I'm left now alone with the prep team. To their good graces they are quite ignorant of my condition which I find refreshing. They pay no attention to what I am and am not looking at, and they talk so fast that if I laugh or respond in a weird place, they barely notice. Suddenly I'm wishing I could just stay here in this room, in the free air, and sit amongst these chatter boxes and their finery forever. But I want to get back to Finnick. Even if it does mean returning to a cave.

"Oh, try this one first!" the crying one begs, shoving a velvety blue dress at me. I nod and change into it, but I'm not sure I like it. It's beautiful, but I've never worn such a thing. Even the team agrees I don't carry it correctly.

So I go on like that. It's fun actually; never in my life have I worn such finery. We were never able to afford things like this in childhood, and even during my trips to the games my designers were not this good. It was like wearing some sort of remnant from a dream, a good dream. I try on an orange dress with yellow shimmers, a black dress with crystals, a pink dress with flowers printed on the skirt, and a purple dress made of twisted tulle that fades into gray and white. They almost chose that one too, but I saw something in the closet I wanted more.

"Can I see that?" I ask in a timid voice. They stop fussing over my hem and look where I'm pointing.

"Of course, of course. That's a stunning dress, try it!"

They're so happy that it makes me smile. As they rush to pull the dress off the hanger, I turn and see Katniss sitting on the couch. I don't know when she came in, but she's there now. It almost startles me. "You pull these off better than I ever did," she remarks, "Finnick's not going to be able to keep his eyes off you."

I smile and then allow the team to slip off the purple dress and pull the one I picked over my head. And when I face the mirror I freeze.

It's stunning. The most stunning thing I've ever seen. I'm not wearing a dress—I'm wearing art.

It's mostly made of green silk. It's loose on the top and tucks into a sweetheart neckline. There's a piece on top—I guess you could call it the sleeves—that wraps around my chest and forearms, draping enough so I can move freely and then meeting over my heart where the ends are fastened with a diamond pin. The fabric tucks and wraps so that it's tight on the hips and dips low in the back. And then, after elongating my torso and making me look elegant on the top, the green silk tumbles down to the floor like water. In the back there's a slight terrain and little crystals that line the hem of the dress. It hides all my flaws, all those days starving in the prison, and makes me look tall and beautiful. I have curves, I have glowing skin, I am stunning. Even the team seems to tear up.

And of course, more than anything, it reminds me of the dresses I'd wear at home. They weren't this fancy nor this masterful and elegant, but they were of the same mood. Flowy, loose in places and tight in others, easy as if I'm wearing air. Then Katniss offers some matching earrings and a necklace which makes me want to cry more. I nearly do when Flavius pins a piece of my hair back with a silver barrette.

"You look perfect," Octavia says, "This is the one, for sure."

So on that note, we head back to Thirteen; but not without harvesting some long grass to make the wedding net with. I'm excited when I hear all the plans. Children singing, decorations made of some sort of foil, even a fiddler. I wish we had flowers, but I have to make do with the ones they created from their imaginations.

"What about the salt water?" I ask at one point. Plutarch smiles and taps his head.

"We couldn't get to Four to get some of your sea water for you. But there's an ocean not far from here. It's much colder than the one you're used to I'm sure. But we managed to get some saltwater there. And we—"

Finnick shoots him a look and he clams up. When I ask, neither of them will tell me. So I shrug and decide not to care. Whatever it is, it doesn't matter.

The whole place is up in a buzz, but every second I get, I'm staring back at Finnick. Surreal how the day I never thought would come is coming so fast. And I couldn't have chosen someone better to spend it with.

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

Why are my palms sweaty? I mean honestly, I was the Golden Boy, and now I'm nervous at my own wedding?

I'm wearing a suit they altered for me that Peeta once wore. It's striking. I never got to wear anything designed by Cinna, but I have to say, he makes a damn good suit.

"Are you ready to go?" someone asks. It's Dalton, the man from Ten who's doing the ceremony. I nod sheepishly and adjust my collar one more time.

"How do I look?" I ask with a weak smile. He shakes his head and slaps my shoulder.

"Ya look better than the most of us, son."

I head above ground, waving at person after person who hasn't been invited but came to see the people anyways. They don't let me see Annie because they say it's a surprise. Then I'm in an elevator and my hearts beating so fast I have to sit down. Plutarch, Haymitch, and Coin greet me when I emerge, along with a guy and his camera.

"You look great boy, now get up there and make yourself happy," Plutarch tells me. He too gives me a slap on the shoulder, which is starting to hurt. There's three hundred lucky people assembled out there, Katniss and Johanna amongst them. But I don't see any of them; I just want to see Annie. All the rest is a blur.

The ceremony begins with me standing in front of all the guests under an arch with the ceremony holder—Dalton—as he welcomes the crowd and announces why we are gathered.

"Friends, it's a pleasure and an honor to have you all gathered here today for the marriage of Annie Cresta and Finnick Odair," he says, "And now without further ado, let's have the song, if you will."

The children's choir perks up because this is their big moment. My heart is thudding and my knees shake because I know at any minute, Annie will come walking towards me.

_The ship is raised from the ground piece by piece_

_And put on the shore to wait._

_The hands that sets the sail's release_

_And hangs the flag of sweet cerise _

_Will steer the course of the ship's fate. _

_Sail away, sail away._

Annie emerges from the cover and starts walking towards me. She looks absolutely stunning. I've never seen fabric on a dress move so much like water and I can see her eyes glowing from here. She's the girl I knew back home with shining green eyes, wild and wavy dark hair, red lips, and freckles dusting her blushing cheeks. She smiles at me and I smile back, making sure to maintain eye contact.

_And when my ship sets sail for the sea_

_The wheel and sail is manned by two_

_The one who swore their allegiance to me_

_And I to them, for this voyage would be_

_Nothing, without you. _

_Sail away, sail away. _

When Annie reaches me, her eyes have watered with tears. Maybe because she's happy, or because she wishes this were all done at the beach back home, but she's still smiling widely at me. I take her hands and we face each other in front of the entire gathering as the net is draped over our shoulders and the shanty is continued.

_And the first of the voyage is easy and free_

_Full of life, laughter, and sun_

_But there's a world out there we have yet to see_

_I'll go there as long as you're with me_

_Our adventure has only begun._

_Sail away, sail away._

_So let the tempests swell and roar_

_Let the rain come down and the volcanoes spew_

_Let the sun hide and freeze us more_

_Let me cry out like I've never before_

_We'll still steer the ship right through._

_My love, if you stay true…_

_Then nothing shall turn my eye_

_No, nothing that does pass us by_

_No distant shore, no passing fleet_

_No treasures will ever move my feet_

_I'm tethered now to you._

_And lighthouses will marvel how we grew._

_Sail away, sail away._

For now the song diminishes into a sweet, harmonized hum and the low trembling of the violin. I want to kiss Annie, to hug her, but we're not allowed. We have to stand still. I lean in and whisper in her ear, "_Green really is your color."_

The memory of our time together in the Capitol and various times throughout life surfaces and her smile widens. She reaches up and fixes a piece of my hair. And Dalton begins the vows.

"Love seals the most sacred of bonds. Family, friendship, and of course, marriage. It's the foundation of a life shared by two people who are promised together such as Annie and Finnick shall be today. Love builds us up, makes us strong, and supports us when we would otherwise crumble. There's nothing more sacred nor miraculous than two people joining together in the name of love for the rest of their lives. Finnick, are you prepared for the responsibility of a complete dedication to Annie?"

I smile at her and say, "I am."

"And Annie, do you promise to embrace the responsibility of a complete dedication to Finnick?"

She gives a little nod and keeps her eyes on me, "I am."

"Now Finnick, please recite the sacred vows of the future husband to his future wife."

Normally, in Four, we'd repeat after the ceremony-holder. But because it's a little different and Annie and I both know them, we decide to just recite them from memory.

"I, Finnick Odair, promise to love you in the light of day and in the dark of night. To return from each voyage ready to embrace our own. To provide for you and our family. I promise to hold you in sickness and find joy in your health. I promise to respect you, to listen, and to cherish your life as my own."

Annie can't stop the smile from brimming all over her face along with some tears. Now, I think, people will see her as I do. There's no denying her radiance when she smiles like the sun is inside her chest.

"And now, Annie, please recite the sacred vows of the future wife to her future husband."

She blinks as if she forgot she had to speak and for a moment I think she's forgotten them. But then she takes a deep breath and begins.

"I, Annie Cresta, promise to love you in clearness and confusion. To embark on each voyage with your heart in mine. I promise to share life's burdens whenever they arise. I promise to nurture you and care for you in sickness, and to rejoice in your health. I promise to hold you in equal measure, to respect you, and to cherish your life as my own." Quietly, so only I can hear, she says, "_More than my own."_

Dalton warmly continues, "Finnick, you are Annie's betrothed, to have to and hold her for as long as you both do live?"

"I am."

"And Annie, you are Finnick's betrothed, to have and to hold him for as long as you do live?"

"I am."

Dalton presents the salt water in silver bowl. "Salt water. The movement and the waves of the ocean. The thing of sweat and of tears. It carries the ships to the shore and carries them away again. Finnick and Annie, as you two embark on your own voyage, may you never forget the promise you made to each other. You may now seal the oath with the salt-water ritual."

Annie dips her thumb in the water and touches it to my lips. I do the same and watch how the water makes her lips glisten. The children finish the song.

_Our ship weathers through the years_

_Connected now and forevermore_

_Passing with smiles and tears_

_Our deck of memories and defeated fears_

_To hold on to what we're living for_

'_Til we meet the shore._

The song ends and the anticipation begins to swell.

"I now declare you husband and wife! Finnick, you may kiss your bride."

My excitement pitches and I cup her face in my hands and we kiss, savoring the taste of salt water and joy on each other's lips. Everyone claps and cheers like they've never seen anything more wonderful. Annie wraps her arms around me and we hold the embrace while Dalton takes the net off our shoulders. I've never been happier. I never dreamed I could be this happy.

We're congratulated and kissed and hugged, but I never let go of Annie's hand. Compared to all the everyday clothing and uniforms, Annie and I are radiant in our borrowed finery. We're toasted with apple cider instead of alcohol. The fiddler strikes up a tune and suddenly the guests come alive. Everyone from Twelve seems to know some kind of folk dance that everybody joins in on. It's a lot of swinging, spinning, and switching. Annie can't stop laughing even when people trip over the back of her gown. Johanna even convinces Katniss to join in with her sister Prim. I smile because even Johanna is dancing, and not only that, she's managed to snag Gale as her partner. I can't tell if he's having fun or if he's just scared of her.

"A dance for the couple!" someone shouts. Annie looks at me nervously because she's never danced in front of so many people. I give her an encouraging wink as the fiddler mellows the tune down to a happy but slow little song. The guests form a circle around us and it's just me and Annie. I take her waist and hand and go with the rhythm. She follows my lead well and we manage to pull off enough grace that other couples start to join in.

"I love you," I tell her.

"I love you too," she says. At the end of the song, I dip her down low and kiss her which makes everybody hoot and cheer.

And after an hour of dancing, the real surprise comes out. It's a massive wedding cake covered in swirling blue frosting that looks just like the water back home. Tears spring to Annie's eyes as she lightly touches the peak of one of the waves as if to check and see if it's real. There's also fish, sea flowers, dolphins, and shells all over it. It's not even a cake, it's art. And it's making Annie cry.

"It's like a piece of home," she says in disbelief. They tell us that it's tradition—if there's a cake—that the couple cut the first piece and feed it to each other.

"It's an old tradition," Plutarch says, "Just try it, it's fun."

It feels wrong to ruin such a stunning piece of work. We make sure the cameras have gotten sufficient footage of it before we hold hands and cut the first slice. It has a massive bright pink sea flower on it. "Bottoms up," I say with a wink. We both feed each other a bite, which is a little awkward to coordinate, but the cake is incredible. Yes, the Capitol's dishes defeat it, but compared to what we've been eating in the cafeteria it's amazing. I dip my finger in the frosting and tap it at the end of Annie's nose. She wrinkles it and goes cross-eyed trying to look at the blue frosting. Then she gets revenge by smearing a bit of it on my cheek.

You can tell the cake is a smash hit. Eyes are bugging out of their sockets everywhere I look. I doubt that the people in Thirteen and Twelve have ever tasted anything close to this kind of delicacy.

There's more dancing, more singing, and more games. We play a kissing game where we all stand in a circle and pass a piece of paper using nothing but our lips. I drop it on purpose to kiss Annie again which gets us a lot of aw's.

And then, to top off the night, Heavensbee goes on for a good ten minutes until Haymitch waves him down. Haymitch himself is too drunk to make a speech, even though I have no idea where he found the alcohol. Johanna congratulates us and wishes us all the best. Beetee tells everyone how we're two of the bravest and strongest people he's ever met. Coin gives a stiff congratulatory address and then they ask us to make speeches to wrap the party up. Annie's still quite shy so she keeps it short.

"Thank you all for coming and being so nice and supportive," she says into the microphone, "I'm so glad to finally be married to Fin, and I'm glad you all got to share the moment with us. It was like having our family here. So, thank you. And Fin, I love you!"

She raises her glass of cider and everyone joins in. I kiss her cheek and then take the mic so she can sit down. I rub the back of my head and then strike a semi-seductive pose. "How ya doin', everybody?"

The crowd roars and claps, shrieking out cat calls and whistles. Haymitch cups his hands over his mouth and shouts, "Take it off!"

I laugh and wave them off. "Okay, okay. I won't bore you with taking you through the journey that Annie and I have had together. It did involve three different Hunger Games, a really intimidating older sister, and some really great trips to the Capitol." The crowd chuckles. "Annie has shown me time and time again that no matter what we go through, she'll always come out determined to survive. It hasn't been easy, but I wouldn't be here today without the support she's shown me. Annie, you're my best friend, my family, and now you're my wife. Thank you all for sharing this day with us and know I couldn't be happier. Annie, I love you too!" she waves at me and I throw her a wink, "But you knew that. Good night everybody, all the blessings." I kiss my three fingers and hold them up in the salute and everybody returns it. Then everything goes into a flying blur as people rush for some leftover cake and to snatch decorations for a keepsake. I take Annie's hand so I don't lose her in the crowd and allow Heavensbee to lead us to our new room.

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

I have Finnick's hand clamped in mine. He's following Heavensbee and I'm following him as we duck and weave through the chattering crowd. I'm exhausted, but there's a deeper excitement keeping me alive and awake. We break through the crowd and disappear into an elevator. Plutarch wipes his brow and goes a small whoop.

"What a celebration!" he cries victoriously, "I never expected them all to dance like that! Sure we didn't have all the trims and fixings, but man that was _just_ what we've all been craving. You two were great."

"Thank you," Finnick says kindly. The elevator stops and my heart lurches.

"It's down the hall and to the left," Heavensbee tells us with a wink that makes me blush a deep red. The doors open and Finnick's hand leads me out. The hall is dark and empty with just a few lights lining the doors. My heart is thudding so hard that it makes my hands shake and get sweaty.

"We're married," Finnick says to himself when the elevator departs. The silence is pressing after being surrounded with so many people. For the first time all night, I get a moment to breath.

"Yes, we are."

Our excitement wins out and suddenly I'm jumping up and down and we're giggling like children. Finnick wraps his arms around me and lifts me up in the air. I squeal with delight and squeeze his shoulders. When my toes touch the ground, I tilt my head up and let Finnick kiss me. It quickly deepens and there's a fire inside me that swelters as I trace the form of his lips with my tongue. He tightens his arms around me and lightly bites my bottom lip so I can't escape the kiss. When we finally come up for air, he presses his forehead against mine and takes my hand.

"Come on," he whispers, "I've got a surprise."

I follow him curiously, reveling in the heat of his palm on my waist. The second we turn the corner, my breath betrays me and I freeze. It's not about the candlelight lining the hall, nor the flowers they probably plucked from the woods. It's about the path lined with white shells that grabs me. I drop to my knees and pick up the shells in my hands, feeling the bits of sand still clinging to the surfaces. Tears come to my eyes for the hundredth time this night. I can smell the trace of salt that hangs in the air. I feel Finnick's hand on my shoulder.

"You like it?"

"I love it! Fin, where did you get all these?!"

"When you went to Twelve to get the clothes, some people went to that cold ocean to get the salt water for the ceremony. I asked them to get all the white shells they could find."

I shake my head in disbelief and then stand up and face him. He's waiting for me to say something, but I just grab his face and kiss him full on the mouth. Then I find his hand and take it, leading him towards the door. "Come on," I whisper. We open the door and find that the candles and shells continue all the way to the bed sitting at the back of the little room. The room is as simple and tasteless as all the other's we've stayed in here, but to Plutarch's good graces he must've sprung for a decorative blanket, because ours is a luscious red color. Finnick suddenly turns to me and has my arms. Is he actually _nervous?_ He's done this what, a thousand or more times?

"We don't have to do this if you're not ready," he says quickly. I blink at him.

"We've been together for five maybe six years? I'm ready. I'm _more_ than ready. I might die if we don't."

"But—"

I silence him with a kiss and put my hand on his cheek. "I'm all here tonight. There's no drifting away, no nightmares, no unseen terrors. I'm yours." I kiss him again, only slower. And then move to his neck and whisper into his ear, "And more importantly, you're _mine."_

The fire roars as he sweeps me up into his arms and brings me to the bed. We tumble over each other like rolling waves on the shore. All these years we've forced ourselves to hold back and resist the blazing heat trying to get out. But now, in this sweetest victory, we don't have to. I undo the buttons on his suit jacket and shimmy it off of him, tossing it to the ground. Our bodies never lose contact as we tear clothing off piece by piece. First my jewelry and shoes. His shoes, vest, and tie. More kissing. He grazes my neck with his teeth and draws my skin into his mouth. It sends electricity tingling down my body and into my fingers and toes. I try and get them steady enough to undo his shirt buttons, but in the end he just ends of tearing the shirt off and throwing it into the pile.

I twist so I'm overtop of him with my hair curtaining our faces. I kiss his lips and then move to the crook of his ear. Then down his neck and onto his chest. I continue my trail of osculation until I reach the hem of his trousers. I feel the hum inside his body and smile before sliding back up his chest and to his lips. He chuckles deeply and rolls me under him. My dress at this point has just become tangled around our legs. He kisses my neck and chest as he smoothly slides my dress up and over my head. In a way, the cool silk makes it feel like I'm diving into water.

Finnick's attention to detail is…wonderful. I'm so absorbed in the moment that I forget _why_ he's so good and just enjoy the fact that he is. His whole demeanor and responses makes me feel like I'm not in the least bit inferior with my skills. I suppose he loves me, and I love him, so that makes all the difference.

Finally all the clothing is gone and for a moment we just look into each other's eyes. He pushes a piece of my hair off my cheek and gives me a subtle smile. I mouth, once again, 'I love you,' and he returns it. And then with a kiss and foreheads connected, we cross over the line and link ourselves as physically now as we've been mentally for years.

And my promise rings true. There's no fear, no dark whispers or ghosts standing in corners. All there is is me and Finnick and the fervent fire consuming us.

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

I've never experienced that before. I thought I did, millions of times. But this was different.

Annie's head is resting on my chest and her arm is slung over my stomach. Her breathing is steady and quiet and there's a trace of a smile still on her lips. I take a deep breath and stare at the ceiling and let a grin break over my face.

I remember telling Annie once that I couldn't tell her what that kind of intimacy would be like with her because all I'd ever experienced was with meaningless strangers. The sensations, the motions, the technique may have been the same with Annie, but not the way it felt. The whole time all I wanted was more of her and to give more to her, never to just end it. There was no shame after and no guilt afterwards either, just satisfaction and an incredible sense of being loved as much as you love.

Sleep is winning over, but I manage to secure my arms around her before I slip into the darkness. There's no promise of nightmares and no fear. Sleep just envelopes me in soft, warm wings and whisks me away to nothing but the feeling of incandescent happiness and rest. Annie's face swims into this world and the warm sensation of her skin against mine. The rise and fall of our breathing turns to the tumbling waves of our ocean back home. I'm loved. She's loved. We're so loved. We're floating in a world of blue. The presence of Annie has my hand and together we float until we meet the shore.


	43. Chapter 43

_I know, I suck. I'm sorry. I literally have had no time at all. But here it is! It's 2 am and I have work at 8am, so I hope you're all happy!_

_Also, PLEASE LISTEN TO BE STILL BY THE FRAY. It pertains perfectly to this chapter and Annie and Finnick's relationship as a whole and I listened to it on a loop when I wrote this. So listen to it. Heres the link: _

watch?v=Vtp-p7qFI2I

_Happy reading! And thanks for the patience!_

**43**

**I'm With You**

The past few days I've spent married to Finnick have been the happiest of my life. I feel weightless, happy, and full of everything good. He clings to my hand like it's a life source. It sort of is for me too, I guess.

He's also been doing some basic training. Running drills, exercise, guns, that sort of thing. Katniss and Johanna are doing it too. I know about it but I don't really know how I feel regarding it. We're too happy to worry.

"So I was on my dad's fishing boat," he begins. It's the old 'sea turtle stole my hat' story. We're all eating some beef stew that—it's a big deal because the beef is real and came from Ten—and the group has gathered together to share the meal. There's me, Johanna, Katniss, Gale, Finnick, and a girl named Delly. She seems really sweet.

Finnick is soaking in the laughter after his story when Katniss chokes on a piece of bread and we all see Peeta standing behind an empty chair with a tray in hand. The poor thing still has shackles on his wrists and has to balance his tray on his fingertips. He doesn't look happy; neither do the guards standing behind him for that matter.

"Peeta!" Delly exclaims, "It's so nice to see you out…and about."

Johanna takes a bite of her bread and gestures at his cuffs. "What's with the fancy bracelets?"

"I'm not quite trustworthy yet," Peeta responds. Since when was his voice so cold? "I can't even sit here without your permission."

"Sure he can sit here. We're old friends," Johanna says as she pats the seat beside her. The guards nod and there's an awkward moment as Peeta tries to maneuver into the seat while balancing his tray. Johanna continues, "Peeta and I had adjoining cells in the Capitol. We're very familiar with each other's screams."

And suddenly her words act like a trigger and the blood curdling screams of Peeta and Johanna on the final night ring through my head and bang on my skull. I slap my hands on my ears and try to block out the sound, but it's almost like I trap it in my head.

_Scream scream scream…._

I feel my own pain. I watch Peeta be beaten and Johanna half drowned. There's coldness and blackness and nothing but fear.

But then there's warmth. I feel Finnick's arms wrap around me and the solid walls of my delusion give way to the feeling of his heart pounding against me.

"It's okay Annie. I'm right here. You're in District Thirteen, you're safe. Come back now."

Eventually Finnick's voice overpowers the echoes of the torture and I allow my hands to slowly lower down to my lap. Everyone's busying themselves with their dinner and pretending like they weren't paying attention to what just happened. My cheeks flush and I burry myself a little closer to Fin and wiggle my fingers just to make sure he still has my hand.

"Annie," Delly says brightly, "Did you know it was Peeta who decorated yoru wedding cake? Back home, his family ran the bakery and he did all the icing."

_Of course he did, I'd expect nothing less than magnificent talent from him._

If this is the change in subject, I am going to bite. I'm still embarrassed and in a way I just wish I could crawl in a hole and hide, but I force myself to stay. And Delly said Peeta made the cake. That's actually something I'm interested in.

"Thank you Peeta. It was beautiful."

"My pleasure, Annie."

His voice is gentler when he says that and I'm reminded of the boy who held my hand through the bars and comforted me through his pain. So much strange and peculiar intimacy crossed between us, and now we sit in a room full of strangers and friends who have no idea what happened to us and we're practically putting on airs. I want to reach across the table and comfort him. I want to beat Katniss over the head with a switch until it knocks some sense into her. But I don't. And I can't. All the things I want to do and should do are just movie screens in my head. I think Finnick senses my intensity because he's suddenly ready to go.

"If we're going to fit in that walk, we better go," he says. By walk, I know he doesn't actually mean we're going for a stroll. It's just a polite excuse to cover up the truth. I find myself almost smiling. He doesn't let go of my hand even as he carries both of our trays in one hand. "Good seeing you, Peeta," he says.

"You be nice to her, Finnick. Or I might try and take her away from you."

Those words shock me, and probably everyone else. Of course, it makes sense. The vast majority of the time I spent with Peeta I was naked and he was one good pair of tattered shorts away from being so too. We kept each other alive. But it's not romance, at least not for me. I'm with Finnick. With Peeta, he's a person—not even a friend really, it's not the right word for it—with whom I can speak casually to and put on a face for everyone else. He's some one I spent a terrible ordeal with, and there's no way to express our gratitude for each other nor is there words to describe the aggressive need I have to protect him. Of course no one understands, they just think Peeta made a faux pas.

"Oh, Peeta," Finnick says lightly, "don't make me sorry I restarted your heart."

We are leaving but I don't want to. I'm afraid of what the others will say to Peeta while we're gone.

"Please, can we just hold on a second?" I beg, clutching Finnick's arm.

"Why?"

I focus on their table from our spot in the corner and tune it. "Just watch for a second."

There's some talking and Peeta looks a little put out. Katniss and Gale pick up their trays and leave.

"Come on, Annie…"

"Wait."

When the door closes, Delly suddenly turns on Peeta. At first none of us can tell what she's saying. But then her voice gets louder and squeakier and the whole cafeteria shuts up to listen to her.

"She saved your life, you know! All you've been is mean, Peeta, MEAN! SHE CARES ABOUT YOU SO MUCH AND ALL YOU DO IS SIT THERE AND GIVE HER NASTY LOOKS AND PRETEEND SHE DOESN'T EXIST! YOU HAVE NO IDEA—" her voice hits a note that I don't think the human ear can register properly. Finnick bites his lip to contain his laughter. I'm smiling too. Maybe we shouldn't be but I've never heard a pitch like that in my life.

But now it's really not funny. Peeta's eyes go flat and he starts muttering to himself like some kind of crazy person. He gets so upset that the guards take him away. When Finnick speaks again, it's a little gentler. "Come on, Annie. Let's go."

It's all I can do to stop from crying. I allow Fin to lead me back to our room and we sit down on the edge of the bed.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asks. I shake my head and focus on a spot on the floor.

_Keep it together Annie, keep it together._

"Annie…"

I twist around my press my lips against his. He yields under me but not for long. "This is how you're going to solve your problems? With sex?"

I smile and kiss him again. "Why not?"

His arms wrap around me and my arms erupt in goosebumps. "Are you sure?" I nod and move my lips to his neck. I feel his voice box vibrate when he says "Works for me." And for a little while, I can forget all about Peeta.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"I can see him now, right?" I ask. I managed to escape from Fin for a while after he fell asleep, and now my only obstacle is getting past the guards outside Peeta's door.

"Do you really _want _to?" one of them asks. I stare at his gun and shudder.

"Yep."

They look at each other and then shrug. "Just don't take too long. We'll be watching."

I nod and then make my way into the room through the sliding doors. Peeta is sitting on his bed with his shackles still on, staring at the floor in misery. My heart aches and I slowly make my way to him.

"Peeta?"

His head picks up and turns to me but his expression doesn't change for a few seconds until he registers it's me. Then it almost seems to get sadder. "Annie."

The poor thing looks close to tears. I go to his side and wrap my arms around him. His head falls into the crook of my shoulder and I rest my chin on top of his hair. He's shaking and maybe crying so I just stroke his back gently and keep my hold on him.

"It's okay, Peeta."

"I don't even know what I am. Or what anybody else is. They all hate me."

"They don't hate you."

"They do! I've ruined their little Mockingjay and now—when I come back—apparently I'm not what anyone was expecting. I'm just a burden and they'd rather I died."

I pat his back and give a short laugh, "They wish we all died, remember?" He doesn't answer, so I try a different approach. "Haymitch is glad to have you back. And all your friends. Delly. Even Katniss is glad to have you back."

"That's a gross overstatement."

"You know how she is Peeta…"

"Actually, I don't, that's the problem."

I let him go and sit beside him on the bed. After some silence, he sighs and says, "I hate them all. Every single one of them."

I take his hand and give it a squeeze. "No body's ever going to understand how much pain you're in, Peeta. They aren't going to understand what they did to you. You have every right to hate them all for it too."

He rests his face in his hands and groans, "And what? Be miserable for the rest of my life?"

"Is hating them going to make you miserable, or happy?" He doesn't answer so I continue. "The way they're treating you isn't fair. You have every right to hate them, if that's what you want."

My eyes fall on several scar marks on his exposed arms and suddenly the shadows start pouring in the corners of my vision. I close my eyes and take a breath to steady myself.

_Don't lose it Annie. You're here. You're right there._

I see Peeta's face contorted in pain, his forehead cracked against the steal floor and his body tossed into the bars. I see Darius's fingers fall to the ground and roll away with the blood snakes erupting all over the cell.

"Annie?"

Peeta's hand sits on my shoulder and my world spins back to reality. I blink at him and then smile. He's frowning but his eyes are softer.

"I hate them for what they did to us," he says bluntly. I nod and say, "It's rather horrible, isn't it? We're doomed to be some degree of miserable for the rest of our lives."

He laughs miserably and turns away from me. I'm still smiling a little though. "But, Peeta, you deserve to happy more than anyone else I know. Maybe it's not ideal to find happiness with people who don't deserve _you_, but your choices are pretty slim."

"So what are you saying?"

"I'm saying that, if you're willing to work on it, you can be happy. It's probably going to take a lot of difficult healing, but you can do it I think. The world isn't as different now as you think it is. Katniss still loves you, Gale still envies you, you still frost a great cake. There's people who care about you and people who rely on you caring about them. The only thing that's changed is your blindness to the everyone's bad side. All the rest of us have grown up being perpetually aware of everyone's dark side, so once you adjust, I'm sure you'll be just as happy as the rest of us."

When he glances at me, I throw his a slightly manic smile and my eye twitches involuntarily. He suddenly throws his head back and laughs a surprisingly throaty laugh. I join in after I get over my initial shock and our choked up mirth bounces off the walls and echoes back to us. He wraps his arms around me as we're still laughing so we are still shaking with the force of it.

"Thanks for the pep talk Annie."

"Anytime."

I kiss his forehead and jump off the bed. "I should go now, but good luck with everything. Hopefully I'll see you around."

"Thanks, you too."

I'm on my way out when he decides to say one more thing. "Sorry about lunch today…"

I laugh and wave it off. "Don't worry about it. It was funny."

When I get through the doors, the guards are looking at me like I'm some kind of a miracle worker.

"He hasn't laughed since he got here," they remark. I keep walking and try to contain my smile. Peeta is going to be alright, I know it. It feels good to be the one to got him to smile.

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

"What is this?" I ask.

"I don't know. It came in the mail. There's nothing dangerous in there, security checked it three times over."

I look down at the small package in my hands and run my fingers over the paper. I have no clue what it could be and there's no return address.

"Thank you." I walk away without opening it. It could be from my mother, or from Annie's family, or maybe my friends. I have no idea, but whatever it is, I don't want Coin to see it.

As soon as I find a secluded corner, and rip open the paper and find myself staring at a video tape.

_What in the blazes?_

_Maybe it's a message from home. Or someone's last words. _

My heart is pounding in my chest. I hide the tape under my shirt and walk casually through the tunnels until I find a room with a television that has a VCR. My pulse quickens as I slide the tape in with it's robotic little beeping sound and find my seat, making sure the door to the room is closed and the volume is low enough that only I can hear.

"Finnick Odair."

Ivan's on the screen. My stomach instantly heaves in surprise. I take a deep breath and try to contain my disappointment. Or relief. He's not a loved one, but he's also not a loved one declaring their last words.

"We made this tape to show you what happens when you defy the Capitol. We may not be able to reach you personally, but I think we've created a compilation of clips here for you that will be…" he chews on the words for a moment to savor the piquancy, "_far_ more effective."

My heart skips when the screen goes black. It fades in again and it shows a dark room and a barred cell. Inside is Johanna, looking fiercely at the camera. "Rot in hell," she barks. Then I watch as glass walls surround her and her cell is flooded with water. They electrocute her until she's unconscious. The whole thing makes me sick. Then they move to the next clip. They show a lot of Johanna being tortured and beaten and even some of Peeta. I can barely stand to watch, but I know that they're saving Annie for last. The thought of it makes my chest tighten.

And then they do. The first clip, I see them dragging a shocked looking Ivan from her cell. He was only visible for a second, but I'd recognize him anywhere. I smile because, judging by Annie's expression, that's the part where she attacked him.

_Why couldn't someone send me that on a tape?_

But I stop smiling the instant some man comes on the screen in a black uniform and hits her with a stick. Two others come in and they beat her bloody, saying all the while that she deserves it for what she did. She's screaming and whimpering and I'm physically sick in the trash bin beside me. My whole body is shaking in disgust and rage.

But that's not even the worst part. Next they tear her dress off and tell her that she can freeze every night as a reminder of her punishment. Peeta's shouting something at them in the cell over and they fire a gun at his feet. The men leave but the security camera catches her as she slowly drags herself over the floor towards her cot until she gives up and falls into a heap. I hear her whimper, "Fin…_please_ Fin, help us." Before she passes out.

My body's reacting horribly to what I'm seeing, but I can't stop watching. They use a better camera from the rest of the sequences. First they leer and taunt her and it breaks my heart to see her there trying to cover herself up and not being able to do so. Then they ignite her cell and burn her which makes me sick again. Her screaming reminds me vaguely of what I heard that one time in Beetee's room and know that this must have been the scene they sent. That's why they wouldn't let me watch it.

I see them kill Tristan. And Garcia. Annie's right, she really was beautiful under all that clothing and makeup. And then I watch them come in and yell at her because I was in the propo that sabotaged Peeta's interview. They whip her, electrocute her, and torture her all because she won't say she hates me.

"Now tell Finnick you hate him, or you'll go through all that again."

She finally breaks and starts crying. She looks for a moment at the camera and says, "I hate you. I hate you hate you hate you. You're a monster, I hate you."

But somehow I know it's not for me. But it should be. I'm filled with so much sickening rage that I throw the bed against the wall and rip the tape out and smash it into a thousand pieces.

"YOU'RE NOT GETTING AWAY WITH THIS!" I roar to no one in particular. Mostly Snow. The Capitol. Anyone.

So I'm joining the fight. Annie and I have had our time, and I look forward to all the time in the world with her, but now…now, it's time to defend our honor. To deliver justice. To stand up for ourselves. And because Annie couldn't go to the Capitol and snap necks until the war is won, I will.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

_After the training that Katniss, Johanna, and Finnick all go through in order to take a mission to the Capitol. In the final test, Katniss and Finnick pass and join a group of sharpshooters along with Gale. Johanna relapsed to the hospital when they used water to break her in the final test. When shown a map of the different traps and explosives in the arena, they are reminded of the Hunger Games and believe that this is the last games that they'll play. Before they depart, Finnick pays Johanna a visit because he's on of the 'only friends she's got.'_

"Hey," I say lightly, coming into the hospital room. She's laying on a bed with a morphling drip, looking miserable. "You okay?"

"Never better, sweetcheeks."

I smile and sit on the edge of her bed. "They're sending us to the Captiol. It looks just like an arena."

"No kidding?"

"Yep."

"And does Annie know about this?"

I sigh and shake my head, "How could I tell her, Johanna? She'd never let me go. But I have to."

She shrugs, "I know. Just sayin, you should probably tell her."

"She'll find out soon enough."

There's some silence and the weight of the next step starts pressing in. She finally blinks and looks up at me. "So this might be good-bye, then."

Suddenly the door opens and Gale steps in, looking a little more reserved when he sees me there too.

"Hello, Handsome," Johanna says. Gale rolls his eyes and stops at the foot of her bed. He has his hands clasped behind his back and stands with his back straight; a far cry from the casual take I took. "And why do you grace us with your presence?"

"I suppose you want to know what all the excitement is about? I'm a wealth of information on the topic."

"Yes I would. Thank you."

Gale smiles approvingly and comes down on his heels, "I'll be outside."

He leaves and I'm left watching him with a weird feeling in my stomach. He's in love with Katniss…but..

_Who cares?_

The door closes and I look at her. "Gale, huh?"

She scoffs and shakes her head. "Don't get started."

I smile and then shove my hands in my pockets. The clock is ticking and I can't stay long. I need to spend as much time with Annie as possible before I leave…cause I don't know if I'm coming back.

"Johanna…I really have to go."

"Give 'em hell," she says in that tone that all her own.

"Naturally." I kiss her on the forehead and she slaps her hands over the area.

"No way, a kiss from Finnick Odair? I might scream."

I roll my eyes and pat her shoulder. "For the record, I've enjoyed every minute with you, even if you _are _a cynical little terror sometimes."

"And I've enjoyed every minute I've gotten to spend in your half naked presence. Take care of yourself."

"You too."

I decide not to drag it out any longer so I kiss her cheek this time and leave, passing Gale on my way out. Maybe if he makes it back those two can keep each other company; they're aggressive enough for each other.

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

"I've got a surprise for you," Finnick says. I'm sprawled out on our bed with a book in hand. The author's name is Shakespeare but the English in it is so bizarre I have no idea what's happening at all.

"And what's that?" I respond, raising my eyes to his.

"Come on."

He pulls me up by the hand and then leads my through the tunnels and halls until we reach the outside forest.

"What are we doing?" I ask, breathing in the fresh air. He ties a blindfold over my eyes and pushes my gently forward. My body freezes up and I can't move.

"No. No blindfold."

He stops but he's taking to long to say anything. Panic swells up in me and I start to shake.

"Take it off!" I urge him, fumbling with the knot.

"Okay, okay, sorry," he answers, undoing it easily. I breath a sigh of relief and he kisses my temple as an apology. "Just close your eyes," he whispers into the crook of my neck. It tickles and I smile. When my eyes are closed—only after he makes me promise not to open them—we move forward. "Just trust me. Katniss told me where I could find this."

I follow his directions blindly. He has both my hands in his and helps me whenever I trip on a root or need to go over a log. I'm about ready to give up when suddenly he stops.

"Okay, now sit."

He helps lower me until I'm sitting on what I believe is a rock or stump. There's some rustling and strange sounds.

"What are you doing?" I ask, trying to peer through my eyelashes.

"Don't peak! No peaking!"

I raise my hands innocently and shuffle my feet. Then he starts removing my shoes. Then his hands move to my clothes and I take his arms.

"Hey! Wait a second—"

"No! Hold on," he says quickly. He places my hands on his stomach, "See? Mine are already gone."

"Aren't you being a little presumptuous?"

He snickers and slides my hands around his back until they rest on his backside and I laugh, yanking them away. It works though, because I do let him remove my clothes without me opening my eyes.

"Can I look now?"

"Just a few steps."

He gently pulls my hands and leads me forward until I draw back in shock as something cold and wet laps at my feet. I open my eyes and find myself standing on the bank of a large pond. My mouth hangs open on a hinge as I survey the scene complete with lily flowers, evergreen trees, and rich brown wood. The water is a dark color but it glimmers in the sunlight. I wiggle my toes and they dig into the muddy bank.

"Do you like it?" Finnick asks, walking backwards into the water with my hand still in his. I'm still unable to find words, but tears spring into my eyes. The water is getting deep at a rapid pace and after a few steps, it's up to my waist.

"Ready?" Finnick asks with a playful gleam in his eyes. I stare at him as he begins to count. "Three…two…one!"

He sucks in a deep breath and plunges below the surface. I follow quickly after and allow the weightlessness of the water surround my body in its cool skirts. It's not salty or pulsing with the tide, but it's still water. When I come up again, Finnick's face is there to greet me.

"It's beautiful," I say finally. He smiles and kisses me lovingly and tucks one of the lily flowers behind my ear. We swim in the pond for hours; long after our fingers and toes get wrinkly and our teeth chatter. There's a certain desperation in Finnick's advances so I give in easily and I have to admit that I enjoy our 'time together' in the water.

"I wish you still had one of your white dresses," he says at one point, "I'd love to see you all poofed up like a jelly fish again." I giggled after that and splashed him.

When we finally leave the water, I find that he's packed towels for us both and sandwiches. We spend a long time alone on the bank, eating and spending time wrapped up in each other. My time with Finnick always seems to be encased in bliss these days.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

So for the next three days, Finnick sometimes disappears and says he has stuff to do for Coin. But when we are together, he's the air I'm breathing. We aren't allowed to go outside again to the pond, but it's okay because it was such a perfect day that I don't want to ruin the memory. We spend most of our time walking, kissing, and other things. He's been really intense ever since the day outside.

"Remember when Pearl got married?" he asks one night by the lamplight in our room.

"Of course I do."

"I was such an idiot," he laughs, "You looked so beautiful then. I don't know why I was so blind."

"Well, we're together now," I answer, kissing him lightly on the lips.

"Yeah," he says thoughtfully, "It just would have given us more time." I'm watching him, trying to make out where all this sentimentality is coming from. He turns suddenly and gives me his best genuine smile, "I'm really glad you're my wife."

I take his face in my hands and say, "Me too."

We fold into each other and I try to shut off the voice in my head screaming that something is wrong. I'd confront him about it tomorrow morning, not tonight. In the darkness of our room, after all was said and done, he wraps his arms around me and I'm engulfed in the warmth. My eyelids are heavy with sleep and I'm nodding off when he lifts my chin so I'm looking at him.

"I love you," he says.

"And I love you."

He cranes his neck and kisses me hard against the lips. I respond because something in the way he is looking tells me he needs it. He needs me to be there for him. When we finally pull apart, I take a moment to study his green eyes. I admire his carved face that I still can't believe I deserve to have love me. Finally, I rest my hand on his chest and my head on his shoulder. His chin finds the top of my head, his arms around me, and I fall asleep to my own thoughts saying;

_Ask him tomorrow. Ask him tomorrow. Not tonight._

But in the morning, as I roll over and stretch, I reach out my arms to find that the bed is empty and the sheets are pulled back to allow in the cool air. I blink and rub my eyes, but nothing changes. The bed is empty; it's morning, and Finnick is gone.

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

Annie's falling asleep and I can only pray she doesn't notice my heart pounding in my chest.

_No. I haven't said goodbye yet._

I gently tuck my hand under her chin until she's looking at me. With all the sincerity in my body, I say, "I love you."

I feel her smile a little even in the darkness. "And I love you."

My heart lurches and I lean down and kiss her with all the love and all the longing I can channel. She responds and at the same time her hands run long my shoulder comfortingly. I don't want to pull apart, but eventually I have to. I'm thankful for the dark so that she can't see that I'm nearly in tears. She snuggles her head into the crook of my neck and her hand on my chest, so I wrap my arms around her once more and place my chin on her hair. She slips into sleep quickly, but I can't. I don't know how long I laid there, but all too soon my watch buzzes quietly and it's time for me to go. Annie's still breathing steadily and the watch doesn't wake her.

It feels like it did the morning when Annie left for the arena, except I have to do this one alone. Very carefully, I slip out from underneath her and position her comfortably on the pillows. She moans a little but doesn't wake. Tears stream down my face as I watch her for what might be the last time.

_Remember why you're leaving. Remember what they did to her._

The smoldering rage flares up and I clench my fists. It gives me the motivation I need to say goodbye.

I lean forward and press my lips to her forehead. I keep them there, savoring her warmth, the scent of salt permanently tinting her hair, and the feeling of her warmth—her life, pulsing beneath me.

"I love you Annie. Thank you."

Before I can stop myself, I spin on my heels, grab my bag from under the bed, and walk out the door. My heart takes a moment to feel hollow and twisted and I allow myself to cry for a moment outside of our room. The room Annie and I spent all of our married lives together. And then I remember Ivan's face, the man who tortured Annie, and allow my aching and pain be replaced with rage and the desire to fight. I get up from the floor, brush off and raise my chin, and walk down the hall to the sound of my footsteps echoing hollowly off the walls.

_I can do this. _

_It's time to make a stand._

_I'm with you Annie. I am._

_This might not even be good-bye._


	44. Chapter 44

****_Appreciate this, because these couple of chapters are darn difficult to follow. Also, to all you concerned about Finnick's death...I know it's looming. I know you're concerned. Especially dear Bella. But remember ducklings, I already know my ending. Yes, there are one or two others I may consider writing and posting as separate stories just for kicks. But i have my ending and it's good. So no matter what, just trust me with your literary needs, okay? Happy reading folks!_

**44 **

**The Mission Begins**

"I can't believe him!" I shout, kicking the dresser. It sends a sharp pain through my toes but I ignore it. "How could he just _leave?!"_

"We found remnants of a video tape in Parker's room," Beetee explains gently, "It was just a few days ago I believe. I'm guessing the capitol sent him another tape."

I suck in a deep breath and stop myself from using Beetee as a whipping post. "A tape?"

"They sent us a tape of you being tortured while you were still in the Capitol, but we stopped him from seeing it. I'm guessing they sent another one and it motivated him to join the fight. Katniss, Gale, Boggs, and Finnick have all left with a team of sharpshooters for the Capitol."

I remember the light of the camera blinking its red eye at me as I was whipped, burned, and humiliated. My body quivers and I collapse into the chair adjacent from Beetee. He's looking at me with a sympathetic expression. I fold my arms and clench my jaw so that the anger can keep the tears at bay.

_If Finnick saw any of that, you know there was no way he could stay._

"Are they in danger?" I ask through clenched teeth.

"I'm not sure," he says, "less than the other soldiers. But any place in the Capitol is some degree of dangerous…" When I don't respond, he continues quickly, "But he's a good soldier, Annie. I'm sure he'll be okay."

I steady myself and answer with an uncharacteristic level of iciness, "You don't have to lie."

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

"It's not fair," Gale complains, "If I don't shoot something soon, I'm going to have to start using my hands to kill."

"It's your fault for being so camera ready," Katniss teases maliciously. Gale throws her a killer look and I smirk, setting my gun and trident down beside me. Ever since I left Thirteen I haven't let the thing out of my sight. It's the fourth morning and so far we've done nothing but shoot some pathetic propos. Katniss is being surprisingly cooperative.

Soldier Leeg 2 hits a mislabeled pod. We are all expecting to be attacked by a swarm of muttation gnats, but instead poison darts go straight into her brain. When I get over the initial shock, I look at Gale and raise my eyebrows.

"Still wish that was you?"

That evening, we all stand around to receive the new member of the team to replace Leeg 2. My jaw nearly falls off the hinge when I see Peeta step off the ship with _451_ stamped on his hand and a gun around his back. Boggs relieves him of it as soon as he reaches us. "I'm going to make a call," Boggs mutters, walking away.

"It won't matter," Peeta tells us, "The president assigned me herself. She decided the propos needed some heating up."

I look at Katniss, whose cheeks are flushed with both surprise and anger. We all know the message that Coin is sending, but no one says it out loud. Fact of the matter is, Katniss is worth more to Thirteen dead than she is alive.

After some time on the phone, an angry Boggs demands to have a two-person guard on Peeta around the clock. He disappears with Katniss and I turn to see Gale glaring at Peeta like a stain on the earth. The poor boy is just standing there with an emotionless expression, no doubt trying hard not to look embarrassed or make excuses for his behavior. Before he sees, I silently step between Gale and Peeta and gesture for him to leave. He's going to protest, but I darken my look and he disappears into his tent in a huff. I spin on my heels to face Peeta and dig a bag of dried fruit out of my pack.

"Hungry?" I ask. I didn't bother making my voice sound too positive or else that'd probably piss him off. He glances at the bag and then me and blinks. "Come on," I grin, "I'm on watch anyway."

It's true. I'm on first watch along with Boggs who is still off talking to Katniss. Peeta doesn't smile but he does take some of the fruit.

"Was Annie okay with you leaving?" he asks with a slight coldness to his voice, "She worked so hard to get you back."

A blade of ice slips into my heart but I ignore it, "I don't know, I couldn't tell her." Peeta is staring at me and I decide to level with him. "I saw the tape."

Realization comes over his face and he says, "Oh." I remember him screaming and writhing in his cell. I also remember his cry that saved all of our lives in Thirteen. And more than anything, I remember the way he came to Annie's defense whenever they were attacking her in the prison.

"For the record, I saw what they did to you. And I can't really express how sorry I am," I say earnestly, but casually enough that we don't get uncomfortable, "Nor can I tell you how much I appreciate what you did for Annie."

He nods and rubs his temples. His wrists are raw and bruised from where his restraints used to be. I wince and swear inwardly to repay him someday if I can figure out how.

"Let the nightmare begin," he mutters. I remember something and pull the small rope out of my pocket that I've used as my own personal therapy for months.

"Take this," I tell him, "it helps."

He stares at the rope blankly when I place it in his hands. "Just tie knots with it," I say, "It's what I did while you were all locked up in the Capitol. It helps relieve some of the frustration."

He blinks again and looks at me, "Thank you."

"No problem."

I excuse myself to get something more substantial for dinner, when I hear Katniss talking to Jackson amongst the rest of our group. "When is my watch?" she asks. Jackson squints at her with all the absurdity.

"I didn't put you in the rotation."

"Why not?"

_Is she serious?_

"I'm not sure you could really shoot Peeta, if it came to it," Jackson says. I know it strikes a chord in Katniss, because she lifts her chin and assumes an aloof posture.

When she speaks, it's loud enough for us all to hear. "I wouldn't be shooting Peeta. He's gone. Johanna's right. It'd be just like shooting another of the Capitol's mutts." She's breathing heavily, no doubt with the rush of saying something so horrible out loud. I'm not the only one who sees the measure of disgust that glints in Jackson's eyes.

"Well, that sort of comment isn't recommending you either."

I don't know why, but Boggs says, "Put her in the rotation. Jackson sighs and assigns her to the midnight to four shift along with herself. I'm trying to bite down my anger when the dinner bell sounds and I find Peeta. He's busy tying knots and I'm guessing, due to the lack of anger or sadness on his face, that he didn't hear Katniss's outburst.

As we eat, I notice that I'm not the only one throwing Katniss dirty looks. The whole team seems appalled with her complete disregard for the boy who saved us all. For the most part I try to keep up steady and safe conversation with him, and to my surprise, a lot of the team tried to as well. It's hard to get him to talk, but if feels good just to include him anyway.

"Time for bed everybody," Boggs orders. He turns to Peeta and says, "I'm sorry to do this, but I need you to sleep out in the open where you're in clear view. If it rains or something, I'm sure we can try to make alternate arrangements."

Peeta nods and says, "I expected nothing less."

He tucks himself into a sleeping bag in the middle of the camp and pulls out the rope, twisting and turning it into slipknots over and over again. After a few hours I get bored and teach him some new ones that are harder. It's not much, but the bigger the challenge, the more he's distracted from his confusion and anger. When I try to make more conversation, he keeps silent and I take the message loud and clear. '_Leave me alone.'_

When midnight comes around, I pass Katniss on my way into the tent. I don't think she sees me, which is probably for the better. I don't know what I'd say to her if she tried to speak to me. On a second thought, I join those who were sleeping outside just incase we need to wake up and take care of any situation Katniss might stir up.

I tuck myself into the warmth of my bag and listen to the sound of peaceful breathing fill the air. After an hour, I lay facing the stars and sigh because I can't sleep. But that's when I hear Peeta speak.

"These past few years must have been exhausting for you. Trying to decide whether to kill me or not. Back and forth. Back and forth."

So it sounds like maybe he did hear. Or maybe he's just noted that she has a gun, and he doesn't.

_Don't say anything stupid, Katniss._

"I never wanted to kill you. Except when I thought you were helping the Careers kill me. After that, I always thought of you as…an ally."

I breathe a sigh of relief because she at least didn't tear into him again.

"Ally," Peeta repeats. "Friend. Lover. Victor. Enemy. Fiancé. Target. Mutt. Neighbor. Hunter. Tribute. Ally. I'll add it to the list of words I use to try to figure you out." He pauses and then says, "The problem is, I can't tell what's real anymore and what's made up."

The even breathing has ceased and I know more of us have awoken and were listening. I decide I might as well speak.

"Then you should ask, Peeta. That's what Annie does."

"Ask who?" Peeta says, "Who can I trust?"

Jackson chimes in. "Well, us for starters. We're your squad."

"You're my guards."

"That, too," she says, "But you saved a lot of lives in Thirteen. It's not the kind of thing we forget."

There's silence after that and I fall asleep. I awaken again when I hear Katniss speaking. "And yours is orange."

"Orange?" Peeta repeats doubtfully.

"Not bright orange. But soft, like the sunset…At least, that's what you told me once."

"Oh…Thank you."

She continues, "You're a painter. You're a baker. You like to sleep with the windows open. You never take sugar in your tea. And you always double-knot your shoelaces."

I feel her footsteps race by me as she dives into the tent. I see Gale's eyes follow her and then look at Peeta with both pity and something else I can't pinpoint. I fall back asleep with a smile, because finally, I start to see Katniss's humanity returning to the surface. And maybe if hers does, Peeta's can too.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

_After Finnick, Katniss, and Gale go hunting. Peeta's been given back his gun even though it's loaded with blanks and 'real or not real' has been invented. They are currently getting ready for a propo._

I'm strapping on some of my armor when I notice Peeta staring at Pollux with so much intensity it makes me squirm. Eventually everyone begins to take notice and pause to see what is wrong. When Peeta finally speaks, it's agitated, "You're an Avox, aren't you? I can tell by the way you swallow. There were two Avoxes with me in prison. Darius and Lavinia, but the guards mostly called them the redheads. They'd been our servants in the Training Center, so they arrested them too. I watched them being tortured to death. She was lucky. They used too much voltage and her heart stopped right off. It took days to finish him off. Beating, cutting off parts. They kept asking him questions, but he couldn't speak, he just made these horrible animal sounds. They didn't want information, you know? They wanted me to see it."

I'm stunned. I remember a part seeing Annie and Peeta screaming for them to stop and I did see someone's fingers getting sawed off, but I didn't know who. Now I know. Peeta's observing us and asks, "Real or not real?" We don't answer and he gets more desperate. "Real or not real?!"

"Real," says Boggs, "At least, to my knowledge…real."

Peeta sags. "I thought so. There was nothing…shiny about it." He walks away muttering and I watch Katniss sink into Gale's chest in misery. I swallow my own disgust and try not to think about what watching such a thing must have done to Annie.

We go on with the propo, but it's just ridiculous. Cressinda makes us stop the action several times to get close ups of our faces. Katniss isn't even the worst actor in the lot. Not by a long shot.

"Okay, Mitchell, I'm going to zoom in on your face. Look around the corner and then I want to see some sort of emotion like desperation. Like you're really in danger and your life could end and you're just desperate to make it home. And…go."

We all scuttle to the corner like lanky crags and hug our guns to our chest. Pollux starts laughing this weird choky sound and we all break. We have to go back and do it again but I accidentally step on Leeg 1's pants hem and she falls. We end up doing it twice more before we make it to the next point of filming. Peeta and I are doing an alright job, but a smile is tickling the corners of my mouth. Katniss has her mouth open too wide because she's pretending to pant and Gale looks bored. Mitchell leans dramatically around the corner and snaps back behind the wall with his brow furrowed, teeth grinding, and nostrils flaring. This does us all in and Boggs hollers over us.

"Pull it together, Four-Five-One," he says firmly. But we all see him smile as he's checking the next pod. He lifts up his hollow, takes a step back onto an orange paving stone, and suddenly a bomb takes his leg off.

The explosion throws us back into chaos, screaming and smoke. Mesalla was unconscious on the ground because the explosion had thrown her into a wall. I run to her and check her pulse and breathing. She's got neither. I begin to try and resuscitate her while others go to Boggs and some just try to recover.

It's like we've triggered a war. When I look up from Mesalla, I'm confronted with a cloud of black oily smog coming barreling towards us. I shout as loud as I can over the chaos.

"WE HAVE TO MOVE! LOOK EVERYONE, WE'VE GOT TO GO!"

Jackson calls for a retreat. People start shooting and running in an attempt to minesweep. I scoop up Mesalla and start for the direction away from the smog. I hear shouting and see Peeta being tackled as he tries to strike Katniss. It's Mitchell. But Peeta throws him, and when he lands, he's taken up in a net of barbed wire. The smog devours Katniss and the others. And then me. I squint to see there's no helping Mitchell. We run down the street until we find a house and lock ourselves in before the smog hits it. Gale retches into the sink while Castor and Pollux cram rags in the cracks to prevent the fumes from seeping in. I collapse and listen to Peeta scream and bang on the closet door. There's some squabble going on about Bogg's Holo, but I don't listen. I catch though that Katniss has revealed a secret mission—however made up it is—that she has to assassinate Snow. Cressinda helps to convince Jackson. Boggs is dead. We are all going to follow Katniss because, in the end, we're not here to shoot video. We're here to fight.

Katniss leads on as we go back outside with masks over our faces. Homes carries the unconscious Peeta and Leeg 1 and Cressinda assist the woozy Mesalla. We walk through the inky black streets until we find another apartment to stay in about four to five blocks away. We regroup inside and rest when we here an explosion in the distance.

"It wasn't close," Jackson assures us, "a good four or five blocks away."

"Where we left Boggs," Leeg says.

Suddenly the television turns on with a blast and startles the whole room. I actually have my gun at the ready when Cressinda assures us it's automatic. It's a program assuring and the whole world that we are, apparently, dead.

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

The televisions click on in the dining room and we all pick our heads up. Johanna and Haymitch are at my side and Beetee sits across from us with Prim and her mother. Tonight's dinner lacked any sort of game seeing as all of our hunters are gone. At first my heart skips because I see Finnick on the screen, but then I see that he's in trouble.

"The rebels from Thirteen have been living in secret in the Capitol for days," the reporter narrates, "We were alerted to their presence when they set off a line of pods that triggered several explosions and toxins to be released. You see them here via a security camera shortly after an explosion was set off by one of their members. Now, there's a line of traps that's being triggered as they…"

I haven't blinked. I see that someone is bloody and at a loss for limbs. I see Finnick's mop of messy bronze hair from a bird's perspective as he tries to resuscitate one of the other crew members. Then this awful black smog washes over them and the camera goes black. I've frozen, I can't move.

"The culprits have been identified as Katniss Everdeen, Finnick Odair, Gale Hawthorne, Peeta Mellark, Cressinda, and Lieutenant Boggs. There are others who cannot be identified. Boggs is the man who set off the initial explosion."

"We see the remaining rebels retreating into this abandoned apartment where are military forces were dispatched."

My heart sinks as I watch Finnick carry some woman into the building and disappear. He looks okay mostly, but not for long. We see footage of the Capitol's militia arrive on the scene. They fire into the building and set off a series of explosions. It collapses, along with all the hearts in Thirteen. Soon after, we see the reporter on a roof as the apartment runs ablaze.

"All inside are now being pronounced dead, including the face of the rebellion, Katniss Everdeen."

They play the footage of the explosion and the collapsing building over and over until someone takes pity on us and shuts off the television. Everyone's silent and still gaping up at the screen as the silence rings in our ears.

"I don't believe it," I say finally. Everyone at my table snaps their heads around to look at me. I can see it in their faces. Confusion, grief, shock, everything. But I'm a blank sheet. "We have no idea how much time was between them entering the building and the military actually getting there. Where's the footage of their bodies? I'm sure the Capitol would make sure to get them if they were actually there. I'm not going to believe it until they prove it, so I suggest you don't either."

With that, I abandon my food at the table and stomp out to my room. I don't want to see their tears. Finnick's not dead. Not yet. They would've known that they couldn't stay there. They're not dead.

The face of Katniss's sister haunts my head but I push it back.

_He's not gone._

_He's not._

_Finnick is not dead._

_I won't believe it. I won't believe it for a second._

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

I'm staring at the screen where we were pronounced dead. Some think it's lucky. Some are sad for their loved ones. I just can't stop thinking of Annie and praying she doesn't lose it. She knows me. Maybe she'll just know I'm alive. For her sake I hope she knows I'm alive.

Gale finally speaks up. "So now that we're dead, what's our next move?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Peeta says. We're a little startled because we had no idea he was awake. He pushes himself up painfully and says, "Our next move…is to kill me."

"Don't be ridiculous," Jackson retorts.

"I just murdered a member of our squad!" he shouts.

"You pushed him off you. You couldn't have known he would trigger the net at that exact spot," I tell him. I have a hand on his arm to try and calm him down. He looks heartbroken.

"Who cares? He's dead, isn't he? Tears start running down his face. "I didn't know. I've never seen myself like that before. Katniss is right. I'm the monster. I'm the mutt. I'm the one Snow has turned into a weapon!"

I tighten my grip on him, "It's not your fault, Peeta."

There's some debate but Gale promises to kill Peeta before he lands in the hands of the Capitol again. Some of us stay behind to guard him and makes sure he doesn't kill himself, and others hunt for food around the house. As we're all eating, Snow comes on and talks about how wonderful it is that we're all dead, especially Katniss. Coin interrupts the program and gives a moving eulogy to Katniss. Of course, this is what she wanted. A martyr to die for. At the end, Snow comes back on with his finishing line.

"Tomorrow morning, when we pull Katniss Everdeen's body from the ashes, we will see exactly who the Mockingjay is. A dead girl who could save no one, not even herself."

I shake my head in disgust, "Except you won't find her."

That's comforting. Even if Annie thinks I'm dead tonight, by morning everyone will know that we live.


	45. Chapter 45

****_Due to popular confusion, I need to specify:_

_THIS IS NOT THE LAST CHAPTER._

**45**

**My Purpose**

After some debate, we've decided it's best to retreat underground. First we erase all evidence that we've been in the apartment. All that's left is getting Peeta to come too.

"I'm not going. I'll either disclose your position or hurt someone else."

"Snow's people will find you," I warn him. And we all know that's the worst thing that could happen.

"Then leave me a pill," he says, "I'll only take it if I have to."

"That's not an option, come along," Jackson says.

"Or you'll what? Shoot me?"

"We'll knock you out and drag you with us, which will both slow us down and endanger us."

"Stop being noble!" Peeta pleads. "I don't care if I die! Kantiss, please. Don't you see, I want out of this?"

She looks at him for a second, contemplating her options. Something soft comes over her eyes and she says, "We're wasting time. Are you coming voluntarily or do we have to knock you out?"

The poor thing buries his face in his hands for a moment and then joins us. He does, however, refuse to give up his handcuffs. Katniss takes the key, just in case.

We all slip into a shaft and disappear into the tunnels below the candy colored streets of the Capitol. An eerie feeling creeps up my spine the second my feet makes contact with the ground. I jerk my head up to look at the shaft, the only source of natural light, just before it closes. The feeling grows stronger as my eyes adjust to the darkness. Like I'll never see the sun again.

I know thoughts like this won't do, so I push it to the back of my head. But not before closing my eyes and watching the stain that the light left on my eyelids as it fades away. I savor it, that taste of light, and then let it go.

The Pollux the Avox looks sick and his brother Castor explains; "My brother worked down here after he became an Avox. Took five years to buy his way up to the ground floor. Never saw the sun once."

I don't really know what to say. It's Peeta, surprisingly and at the same time not, who speaks up. "Well, then you just became our most valuable asset."

It proves true as Pollux leads us silently through the tunnels without so much as a wrong turn. We make excellent time, much better than we would on the upper levels. And while I'm happy that it's going so well, I can't shake this claustrophobic feeling of being buried alive under here. No wonder Pollux looks so pale. I can't imagine being confined down here with no real light, no fresh air instead of being on the ocean drinking in the sun everyday.

Fatigue sets in and we have to stop. We've been traveling for about six hours and our backpacks are beginning to feel like they weigh hundreds of pounds. I flop to the floor beside Gale and Jackson and suck in a deep breath.

We take turns being on watch for the four hours that we have to rest. I go first which makes me happy because that means I can get a nice uninterrupted sleep afterwards. It doesn't take long for everyone to start snoring as I sit up with Jackson, staring into the tunnels. I close my eyes and think of my friends back home. I think of Annie's family and her nephew and niece. Kai and Kiandra. Big round eyes, little freckles, short pudgy legs and pink soft lips. When this is all over and Annie and I can go back to District Four, I think I want to start a family. We've been together for so many years, why not? I think Annie will make a good mother. She's fragile, there's no doubt about that, but I think having someone that needs and depends on her would do her some good. It's done me good.

But of course, I remind myself, I might not get out of this. That's the agreement I made when I decided to come along, so there's no point planning my future when I might not have one.

_It was just a nice thought, that's all._

I think back to what got me here in the first place. The very first time I was called to be in the Hunger Games.

_"And now for the boys," Garcia had said. She looked so funny to me in her angel-fish inspired outfit. I wasn't used to the citizens at that point. I remember how she looked, stripped of all decorations, right before the Capitol shot her in the head. _

_"Finnick Odair."_

_My work, how my stomach dropped._

_I didn't move; it felt like the ground had opened up beneath me. But it didn't take long for the crowd to part and peacekeepers to take my arms._

_Wake up Finnick, is what I told myself, wake up._

_I remember I yanked them away and walked up the stairs myself. It was the longest climb of my life, and when it was over I felt like I was standing on a cliff rather than a stage. Garcia shook my hand and then turned back to the audience. She had hazel eyes. They were pretty. "Any volunteers from you young men out there?"_

_An older boy stepped out and raised his hand, ready to speak when a middle aged woman from the adults stepped out and slapped him on the back of the head. The boy lowered his hand and closed his mouth._

_"Nevermind," he whispered, stepping back into the crowd with the scraps of his dignity. Garcia chuckled and made some joke about mothers always spoiling the fun._

_"Well then, here you have it, the District Four contestants for the sixty-fifth hunger games! Give them a round of applause, folks."_

_The crowd slowly struck up an awkward applause, but all I wanted to do was cry. I found my mother in the fray, and beside her was my father. He seemed taller and broader than everyone else around him. It was hard to tell but I think my mother was crying and my father was giving me a reassuring nod. I remember my father, soaked in his own blood on the deck of the ship. Another victim of the Capitol. Of me. And my mother, weathered by her own life, walking out the door with her luggage in hand._

_Only then did I take in my face on the screen. I looked weak and scared witless, unlike Marina. Marina. I hadn't thought of her in a while, but she's so clear to me in this memory. Strong, brave, and yet so helpless. She shook my hand and mouthed something to me._

_Don't cry._

It seems incredible how far I've come since that day. I went from a carefree, reckless boy sleeping in his father's fishing boat to one of the most famous, most sold man in the Capitol. I murdered when I was fourteen and returned home to watch my own father die right before my eyes. I was bought and sold, but somehow I separated myself from it. I was brought down to Earth by Annie. It's not even worth trying to comprehend how different she's become. In the most miraculous way, she's still the same when it comes to the best of her. She still loves and cares for everyone over herself. She's still confident in her own self, even if her mind is broken. She still makes up half my world. And she still looks like some kind of wavy jellyfish when she swims in her white dresses.

And then, I've gone from a lovestruck, niave boy to watching the girl I love most in the world thrown into the arena because of me. I watched her mind slowly break down every night. I watched Troy do his best to protect her until the moment he lost his life. And Annie, having his death thrown in her face when her mind finally shattered. I watched her drag herself, injured and broken, into hiding until the arena flooded and she saved herself.

How much growing did I do after I realized that I still could love her even if she wasn't the perfect person I thought she was? Probably most of it. How much meaning to my life did she provide by simply needing me? Again, most of it. But now that I think of it, I'm part of something huge. I was reaped again, thrown into the arena, I murdered more people, my friends even. I saved a girl I barely met. Maybe, if I had never been reaped, I never would have saved Katniss and Peeta in that arena and maybe they'd be dead. Maybe there would not have been a Mockingjay? Maybe Johanna would have killed herself for lack of companionship? Maybe she just would have killed Katniss.

I lost my mind when Annie was kidnapped. But I got it back. I got stronger. And now I know that it's not just Annie that gives my life purpose. I'm part of a revolution that could improve the lives of people for generations to come. I'm a _vital _part. Katniss is the key, I'll follow her anywhere. I've already lived so much more than other people my age. I'm proud of what I've done. Not all of it. But a lot.

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

It's the best news we could ask for. Only Boggs' body has been found at the site that was bombed and destroyed. That means the Finnick, Katniss, Peeta, all of them are still alive. Probably. Wherever they are, it's not where Snow wants them.

"Annie!" Beetee calls out to me, "Annie did you see the news?!"

"Yes!" I shout back, a wide grin over my face. I raise my hand and wave just incase he didn't hear me. But I believe he did. All of Thirteen could probably hear me when I heard the news. I haven't stopped smiling since, with all the strength my hope can muster.

_He's alive! He's _alive_!_

Seeing them fight for my freedom like that has made me want to act. There's some kind of attack going on at the Capitol. It's happening so fast that everyone's running around like crazy people in order to get it together in time. Volunteers are lining up in every which direction.

"I want to do it," I tell Johanna at dinner, "I want to get out there and fight."

"You can't be serious," she responds harshly.

I can't tell how long it's been since Finnick and I were married. Maybe a month or two. Maybe two weeks. I can't tell without the sun there to count the days. I want to get outside and fight, even if I die. Finnick is running the same risk anyway, so why can't I? I'll die if I have to stay here much longer, anyway. Everyone's so pale.

"I _am_ serious," I retort, "Why shouldn't I? They let Finnick out there."

Johanna doesn't seem bent on arguing with me. She just studies me a little critically, shakes her head and then goes back to her food with a shrug.

"It's your neck. But you know they have to check you out at the hospital first to make sure you're stable enough to be responsible for a gun. I didn't pass."

I nod and finish my food. My stomach is churning with nerves as I rush up to the hospital. I don't want to miss the shuttle. I don't even know when they're leaving, but it's soon. We barely even got fed at dinner because they're trying to make 'field rations.'

I'm paired off with Katniss's mother. She runs some tests and puts me through some psychiatric exams as well. I pass I think, for the most part. Okay, I don't know. She's a nice lady though, she tells me her name is Lynn. She's got Katniss's eyes.

After a long night of tossing and turning, thinking about Finnick out there hiding, fighting, dying or whatever he's doing, I spring out of bed and launch myself to the hospital to find out if I can go.

"Annie Cresta," the nurse repeats. She looks at me skeptically. I don't know this woman, but I know one thing. Her eyes can keep their opinions to themselves, thank you very much.

"That's me. Now what's the deal? Can I go?"

She opens the folder with pursed lips. She's already written me off. "Oh," she says a little startled. But then she composes herself and looks at me, "Sorry, but the tests came back and you are not fit to go. Further explanation will be given at a later date. That is all."

She turns around without so much as another word.

"Wait!" I call out, angry. But she's gone, and no one else even looks at me. I storm out to find Johanna. Maybe we can vent about the injustice of it all together.

And at the same time, though it makes me ashamed, I'm undeniably relieved.

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

It doesn't take me long to fall asleep. I'm so exhausted that I flop down the second my shift is over, making sure not to let go of Beetee's trident. The peculiar instrument that gave straightened me out when my mind was as broken as Annie's. But my dreams are vivid tonight. Brighter than if I was sleeping in the sun.

"_Finnick."_

_I turn to see who's speaking to me, but I see myself. I'm in pale linen pants and a white tunic like I'd wear back home. This one has a fine sliver trim, like something Cinna would design. I'm speaking to Marina, who still looks to be eighteen or so and dressed in District Four garb as well. A seafoam green skirt and white shirt tucked into a rope belt. Her hair is still cut at her jawline, blonde and wavy. We're talking. I seem confused. She seems to be telling me something. _

"_Come on, it's time to go," I hear her say. She takes my hand and we walk away. Or the other me. I'm confused. And so is the other me. But I just watched myself walk away and now…_

"_Come on, Finnick, it's time to go," I hear Mags say. _

_I spin around and she's standing there, also dressed in stuff from home. _

"_What?"_

"_It's time to go," she says a little firmer._

"_Mags…"_

"_It's time to go."_

_It's my father. I turn around and he's standing there, tall and broad just the way I remembered him. _

_It's time to go where?_

_The abyss spins around me and Mags, Marina, and my father all disappear as the scene resets itself. It spins until I fade into Annie's beach. I breathe a sigh of relief and fall into the sand. There are little white shells everywhere. I scoop some up into my hand and shake my head smiling. _

_These things really pile up if she isn't there to collect them. _

"_Hey Fin."_

_Annie walks up to me in one of her white dresses and sits down._

"_Annie, something weird is going on—"_

"_Just relax," she says dreamily, lying back in the sand, "we've got all the time in the world here."_

_I fall back beside her and turn my head. The buttery sunset illuminates the side of her face with a warm pink glow and makes her eyes gleam like glass orbs. She turns to look at me and blinks. For some reason I seem to walk it in slow motion. Her eyelashes like dark wings, starting to take flight. She smiles and I smile back._

"_Where's here, exactly?" I ask._

_She reaches up and taps my head and then my heart. She leaves her hand over my chest presses her hand against it._

"_This is just a dream, Fin," she says. "But it's as real as you let it be."_

"_So I'm not dead?"_

_She looks down at her hand that's still pressed against my chest. Her eyes flick back to mine. "Thud, thud."_

_I smile and incase her hand in mine. "Guess not."_

_She leans in and kisses me lightly on the lips and then slides up to her feet and starts walking towards the water. She's ankle deep when I get up to join her. _

"_I can't believe you're the most masculine man in the Capitol and your best friend's a girl," she jokes when she sees I followed her._

"_I can leave, if you'd like," I suggest with a little smirk._

_That gets me splashed._

_We swim out to where it's deep. I go under water and open my eyes to find the waters teaming with gem colored fish blinking in the azure light. I see Annie, swimming above me, just like a jellyfish or an angel in her floaty white dress. It's a dream, so I don't really need to come up for air. I watch Annie swim deeper until the blueness darkens like paint. She dives down and I continue to watch as she grabs the front of a small sunken fishing boat and pulls it free from the weeds in a cloud of sand. She swims it up easily into the sun rippling on the surface. I breech and find her tredding next to the boat that's now floating. _

_My father's boat._

"_Floats perfect," she says._

"_You got it back!"_

_I swim over and kiss her full on the mouth. I'm slightly aware, when I do this, a dove lands on the front mass._

"KATNISS! KATNISS! GET OUT OF HERE!"

I snap up, wide away. My ears are ringing suddenly with the creepiest, but bone chilling chorus of whispers.

_Katniss. Katniss. Katniss._

I kick into fight mode. This the climax, the moment we've all been waiting for. The real fight.

The Capitol must have found out that we're alive. And they probably want their prize once and for all.

I grab my trident and two guns and stand up with the rest of the party, my adrenaline pulsing like a drum.

_Thud thud thud._

"I don't know," Peeta says urgently, apparently answering some question, "But I know that it has to kill you. Run! Get out! Go!"

Katniss relaxes her bowstring and looks at us. "Whatever it is, it's after me. Now might be a good time to split up."

"But we're your guard," says Jackson.

"And your crew," adds Cressinda. Gale looks at her meaningfully.

"I'm not leaving you."

So that's that. I give up one of my guns to a crew member. Katniss and Gale take up their bows and give their guns to other members. We load Peeta's and give it to the last. He doesn't need one anyway, he keeps whispering Katniss's name along with those mutts.

We take off running through the tunnels, following Pollux and the Holo. The whole time those mutts' hissing echos off the wall like a choir of demons running broken nails down rusty metal. My heart is in my throat. We have a good lead on them, so I'm guessing they were released where they found Boggs' body. But if I now mutts—and I do—they're going to be much faster than us. And stronger. And keener.

My feet automatically speed up as we splash through the tunnels. We're being clumsy and I know it, but we can't help it. It's not like we can slow down exactly. We get about three blocks in when the screaming begins. Gargled, animal-like screaming.

"Avoxes," Peeta says, "That's what Darius sounded like when they tortured him." A chill runs up my spine when I remember the broken, fuzzy sound of it in the tape they sent me.

"The mutts must have found them," Cressinda chokes.

"So they're not just after Katniss," says Leeg 1.

We've stopped. My adrenaline makes my hands shake, trying to propel me forward.

"They'll probably kill anyone. It's just that they won't stop until they get to her." It's Gale that speaks. And he's right.

Katniss looks at us all painfully. "Let me go on alone. Lead them off. I'll transfer the Holo to Jackson. The rest of you can finish the mission."

"No one's going to agree to that!" Jackson exasperates. My impatience spikes.

"We're wasting time!" I urge them.

"Listen," Peeta says.

The screaming has stopped. And slowly the hissing melts back into audibility. But it's closer. Much closer. And below us now, not just behind.

Of course, it was the plan to go below.

We take off, Pollux and Katniss fiddling with the Holo to find a new route. My pulse is thundering with life.

_When the time comes, Finnick, what are you going to do?_

_**If**__ the time comes…_

_Katniss is the key. She's going to be the one to kill Snow once and for all._

_So? What about Annie?_

_It's bigger than that. This is everyone. For all the couples, all the children, all the families and were, are, and will be. _

_So? What are you going to do?_

_Protect Katniss. At all costs._

_That means you might not get a say in the final action…_

_It'll make sure the final action actually happens._

We run when Katniss starts gagging. "Masks on!" Jackson shouts. I pull mine quickly, but it doesn't take long to realize it's just the smell of roses that's making Katniss sick.

She swerves and we follow her, straight into a pastel covered street. No doubt where delivery trucks used to run. There's no one here, but the sound of the hissing is gone and part of me breathes a sigh of relief. But my adrenaline is now pulsing to the beat of the unknown.

We're watching for pods. There's something labeled, "The Meat Grinder," that Katniss is concerned about, but it's what really happens that gets to me. Messalla and I had been running side by side when he suddenly stopped. Now that I look, I see him imprisoned in a beam of light.

"Katniss!" I shout, pulling her to a stop. For all we know, there's more.

We watch in horror as Messalla screams, his skin melting off his body.

"Can't help him!" Peeta starts shoving us forward, "Can't!"

We propel ourselves forward when a spray of gunfire shatters some plaster. We spin around and see a troop of peacekeepers coming down the Transfer. We're cornered by the Meat Grinder pod and them. Luckily, me and my five comrades are very good shots.

I'm firing my trident into their masses, admiring Beetee's gift with mild and controlled explosives. When it needs time to reload, I turn to my gun. When that needs to reload, I pierce them with my trident and return it to me using the cuff.

_Fish in a tiny pool. Either they die, or you do._

Mags' grissly words echo in my head as my trident rips one of their throats out.

_At least it's fast._

I feel a searing pain as one of them lands a bullet in my calf. I gasp and falter in my shooting, when suddenly something starts pouring out of the tunnel we just came out of.

They are white, four limbed, about my size in height, but that's where the comparison's stop. Naked, with long reptilian tails, arched backs, and heads that jut forward. They have no eyes. Only to slits for the nose and a lipless mouth teeming with long, gnashing teeth and purple gums.

They swarm the peacekeepers, dead or alive, and sink their teeth into their necks until they rip their helmeted heads off. Apparently, no one, not even the Capitol citizens, are safe. When they finish their meal, they fall to their bellies and skitter towards us on all fours, like demented crabs.

"This way!" Katniss shrieks. We take a sharp turn to avoid the meat grinder. Once we're through, Katniss fires at the pod and opens up the street to a terrible, monstrous machine that clicks and hisses. Katniss and the others take off, but I pause as Leeg 1 and Jackson hesitate. Homes does too.

"Come on!" I shout, waving them on.

"This isn't going to hold them forever," Jackson says. There's a determination and a sadness in her voice that both inspires and breaks my heart. "Just go! While you still can!"

I hold up my three fingers as a final salute to them as I take off in Katniss's direction. The eerie feeling in my stomach is growing stronger and stronger. Homes is right behind, wiping away tears.

"Forget the mission. What's the quickest way above ground?" Katniss asks Pollux. He takes off without changing the Holo. We follow him about ten yards along the Transfer until we reach a doorway. Tile changes to cement and the path grows to a foot in width. We're in the main sewer, and judging by the sight and reek of the bubbling stuff beside us, if we slip, we're never getting out.

We move over a narrow bridge until Pollux finds a ladder and points up the shaft. Our way out.

"Wait! Where are Jackson and Leeg One?" Katniss exclaims, looking around in horror.

"They stayed at the Meat Grinder to hold the mutts back," Homes answers with a small choke.

"What?!"

Katniss lunges towards the bridge, but he grabs her. "Don't waste their lives Kantiss. It's too late for them. Look!"

We turn to the pipe, where the horrible white beasts, now covered in gore, are slithering toward us. "Stand back!" Gale shouts. He fires an explosive arrow into the bridge, blowing it to smithereens just as the mutts reach it. But it seems the things have gone mad. Their bodies writhe with rage and they thrash around, taking chunks out of one another and tossing themselves into the sewage.

We open fire on them, we fight with everything we've got. But it takes twelve bullets to down one, and their numbers are completely overwhelming. Katniss is firing madly into them so she doesn't hear everyone shouting at her to start climbing. Pollux goes first, to lead the way.

Katniss isn't moving. She' just firing. A mutt gets close enough to swipe her ankle with it's claws. I pick her up just as she shoots into its skull, slam her against the ladder, and force her hands to close on the bars.

"Climb. Now!" I shout at her. She looks hollowly ahead but obeys. The mutts are gaining and sick fear starts to make my throat stick. I start fighting again and force myself to resist taking the next turn up the ladder. To save myself. No, instead, I let Gale do most of the firing while I force the others to move on.

"I can't just leave you!" Peeta cries. I shake my head and shout over the magnified hissing.

"You're not armed! Now move it!"

I toss him so hard he actually lands four rungs up. He starts climbing, and I force Cressinda, who's not a good shot anyway, to take the next move. It's only me and Gale now.

I feel like my heart is going to burst. Is this, after everything I've done in my life, all my grandeur and showy murders…is this what that all comes down to? This final moment, in a sewer, away from the sun?

Somehow, I always imagined it differently.

A mutt gets up onto the shore and sinks its teeth into Gales neck. I fire my trident straight into its head, and when it returns to my hand, it tears its head right off.

"Go!" I scream at him, knowing he won't last long with all that blood. It's a ten second run to the ladder from here. If I can hold them off long enough, he can make it. He looks at me and I blink away tears.

"You might not make it back," he gasps, clutching the bleeding wound on his neck.

_I'm aware._

"Just GO Gale! I'll be right behind you!"

He nods and takes off, just as four more mutts take to the land. I back up and fire as much as I can, each of the bullets, explosives, and weapons finding homes in their bodies, but it's just too much. There's too many.

_Annie._

I remember what they did to her. I remember what they did to me. To my family. To Annie's family.

_You have the courage to do this, Finnick. _

_This isn't the end of your legacy._

_They'll tell your story. People will know what the last act of the Golden Boy was._

_Just accept that you're not going to make it. Accept that you're going to stay, so that they can make it._

My heart turns cold and it's a straight, fuzzy feeling. Not a warm one, but more of a numbness. An acceptance. I don't have time to long for all the things I won't have. I don't have the capacity to wish for all the things I never said. I lived a good life, a life dense with love, friends, family, honor, truth, and purpose. And now I have one more purpose. As long as someone need me, that's my purpose. And right now, four of them climbing that ladder need me.

I'm surrounded by their horrible bodies, but in a distant way, I'm not afraid. I just thrash and kill to the best of my abilities.

_At least try to live. At least try to make it to the ladder. _

_Run Finnick! Run for your life if you can!_

I make for the ladder just as Gale's feet disappear into the next level. The bullet in my calf slows me down and it's like running against a current. It almost feels like I'm in slow motion. Their claws rake my arms and legs, trying to keep my back. I cry out and push forward, but I know I'm done. I know I can't make it.

_Just get to the ladder._

I find out there's three of them. I can tell because there's six sets of claws tears at me. But while I'm sure it's painful, the adrenaline keeps me moving and I barely notice.

_Yes!_

My hands connect with the ladder and I start climbing as fast as I can.

_It's okay, Fin, you can give up now. _

The mutts don't give up. I feel them pulling me down, but I struggle to hold on. To the ladder, to my final chance, to life.

"_Annie!"_ I don't know why I scream her name, but I do. My final words. What could be better final words than her name?

I feel my head being yanked back, and I can't fight it. My body goes numb. I don't see the horrible, gory face of my killer. I don't see my own body, torn to shreds and covered in blood. I don't even see the walls of the sewer around me. It all happens in a matter of seconds, but to me, time slows.

_This is it._

_Come on Finnick, it's time to go._

I glace up the shaft and I see light, right at the top, and there's light. Maybe it's sunlight, maybe it's not, but to me, it's the sun. And it's warm. And then I see Katniss, her face looking down at me with agony. My final purpose, the final person to need me.

Something sinks into my neck. But I'm not there anymore.

I see the mast of my father's fishing boat, the first sight of the day of my reaping. It's also the symbol of my family. My mother and my father.

I see the silver parachute carrying the trident that saved my life in my Hunger Games. The trident that avenged Marina's death. That brought me home.

I see Mags laughing during our talk about Annie. The laughter of a friend that was like a grandmother, a guardian, and a mentor. The woman who taught me about love, survival, and how to show respect and mercy even in the darkest of situations.

I see a pink sky. The one that always settles over ocean when the sun sets and rises. The same pink sky that embraced the rising sun the morning Annie kissed me for the first time after she lost her mind.

I see Beetee's trident. The piece of home and power that pulled me out of my darkest point. When all was lost. It gave me a way to fight.

I remember the final position of hope in death from back home. I manage to twist my palms upwards, towards the sky. Like Marina. Like my father.

I see Annie in her wedding dress. The way she lights up the room, the way my heart lurched when I saw her. The day we declared before all of Panem how much we love each other. How her green eyes glint in the light, and that funny little freckle on the bridge of her nose.

And I see waves. My home, my ocean. Where girls are jellyfish and angels and I'm a warrior and where my very existence began. The waves break over a rock, and I swear I can smell the salty mist on the breeze.

And then there's nothing. Nothing at all.


	46. Author's Note to the Readers

_I know you probably all hate me right now. Just trust me okay? I'll make the hurting stop. "Give me your broken and your weary, give me your sorrows…" you know, all that crap. Just don't stop reading. I know a lot of you consider this a deal breaker, but I really just need you not to quit on me now. I'm not quite through with Finnick yet. There's going to be happiness coming. And no, it's not all going to revolve around the kid. So just…don't stop. I love you. I'm sorry. Believe me, it was harder to write that scene than it was to read._

_Also, when the story is over and i put a big fat THE END at the bottom of the page so you know for SURE that that's the last chapter, remember to stay tuned for the alternate ending._


	47. Chapter 46

_Sorry this took a while. Not because I slacked off, but because it's so long! Sorry that it skips around a lot. Three more chapters after this one. Thanks for sticking with it and happy reading, folks._

**46**

**Home**

Pearl's Night

"Echo, you have to go to sleep," I tell her. She's barely higher than my knee, a mess of green eyes and dark curlicues. Hardly more than a baby. She's staring up at me with watery eyes and her thumb stuck in her mouth.

"I want mom," she whines, tears spilling out onto her cheeks. My heart pangs but I keep my composure.

"I know sweetie, but I told you, she's not coming."

Her face twists up as she starts crying harder. She wouldn't be so upset maybe if she weren't so hungry. But there's not a lot of food. And no money to buy more.

"_There was some fire on the Pelican," some man said through his cigar, "The boat's boards were all sealed with pitch. Those who didn't burn suffocated. Those who escaped drowned."_

It's been a week. A week since I ran to the docks to find out why my parents hadn't returned home. A week since I saw the list of the names of people who were not coming back. Who burned. Suffocated. Drowned. I'm not sure which one my parents did, but they're all dead, so I guess it doesn't matter. We're supposed to get money to help support us when our supporter dies, but if I go to collect it they're going to know that we've been orphaned. And that means the home. Annie and Echo wouldn't do well in there. It's a prison.

I scoop Echo up into my arms and hum a lullaby to her until she quiets. Then I tuck her up into a blanket and lay her down on her mat. Annie is sitting in the corner, staring straight out at the room. Barely blinking. Barely moving.

"Annie. Bed. Now."

She doesn't flinch at her name. I go over to her and fix the braid I put in her hair and then force her up and guide her to the matt. She goes through the motions hollowly, but at least when she lies down on the matt, those wide and unblinking eyes finally close. Annie's always been fragile. Sick as a baby. Sensitive and a toddler. But this. I never expected this. I don't know if I can handle losing a sister too. And I don't know if I can handle taking care of a shell—an exoskeleton of a human when there are those living who I need to care for as well.

_Give her a chance. If it becomes too much…then…_

_Then what?_

_Then you'll have to do the merciful thing._

I'm not sure what that means. Maybe it means to give her up to the hospital or a home, or maybe to send her out on a raft with the tide and turn away. Maybe I'll just finally stop forcing her to survive. I don't know. I'll think about it when it comes to it.

My stomach twists with pain and emptiness, making me wince. The hut is dark and empty. Two days after I found out they died, I sold all of my parents' things and all the décor in the house. I kept only the table, the chairs, and the mats on which we sleep. It was hard, but I didn't cry. Not even when I realized that it only made me enough to feed us for a week. I haven't cried in a week. Not once.

But I'm starving. It feels like my stomach is so small that it might tear when I stand up too straight. And Echo is always tearful, so I know it's hurting her too. Annie shows nothing, but if she's going to recover, we're going to need food. And that's simply that.

I don't know why, but tonight is darker than the other nights. The moon is gone behind wisps of clouds and only a few stars have made an appearance in the sky. The waves crash onto the beach in the distance, setting a steady tempo for my breathing. You know you're starved when even taking in air aches you.

I look down at my lap. Then at my hands. And then my figure. I'm always being told how beautiful I am. I know I'm beautiful, until a week ago my looks were probably my main priority. It made me feel wanted—needed even—by those around me. I thought it instilled pride in my parents that I was so beautiful. Now, I haven't thought about what I look like in seven days.

So I look at the tattered, filthy dress I wear. It's the only one I didn't sell. My hands lift mechanically, like they're not my own, and tear the neckline until you can trace the course of my breastbone with your eyes. It's protruding more than ever, a sign of the damage this destitution is already taking. The fabric threads tickle and stick against my skin.

I look at Annie and Echo, asleep. Annie expressionless, Echo a fit of bad dreams and hunger pains. She whimpers and my heart skips a beat.

_You don't have any other choice, Pearl._

_We've been hungry for too long._

I don't know exactly how I'm going to do this, but I don't care. I go outside and start walking down the empty, sandy roads. I'm too numb and hungry to allow myself to think about what I'm doing. I can't think about it. No, this isn't the time to be weak.

The air is cold, but I keep my arms firmly at my sides. The clouds faded enough to allow the moon to shine through and light up the streets. I notice I'm barefoot. Oh well.

"Hey! You!"

I start and turn around. A peacekeeper comes stomping towards me.

_No, not with one of them._

I take off running in the other direction. The sand is kicking up underneath my feet. My heart is fluttering weakly in my chest. He's close behind. I speed up and swing around a house and climb up until I'm on the delicate grass roof. I balance my weight on the edge and the branches that support the grass as the peacekeeper wanders around, wondering where I went. When he's gone, I leap down and sneak into the richer area of our village. The houses are made of plaster and stone and the rooftops aren't made of grass and bamboo. There are lights in the street, which make me nervous.

_Remember what you're here to do._

I force my feet forward towards the sound of a deep voice humming. I find the voice's owner, a man out some porch stairs. I know how men leer at me, so I decide to tilt my chin up and walk slowly by, pretending not to notice him.

"Hey there pretty lady, what's a girl like you doin' out in the middle of the night?"

_And there it is._

I turn to him slowly. He's got red whiskers and a wind-worn face. But his jacket has nice buttons on it, so I assume he has _some _money.

"That depends," I say coyly, walking towards him, "That depends on what you _want_ me to do."

_Yep, and there goes your integrity._

His eyes grow wide and they dart around to see if this is some kind of joke. I decide to convince him otherwise fast. "I'm not kidding, mister."

His eyes go from my eyes and slide down until they've examined every inch of me. "How old are'ya anyways?"

"Eighteen," I answer softly, leaning into him. I'm actually seventeen, but it's close enough. He's nervous, but I can see the walls starting to break down. I feel oily and disgusting, so I guess I'm doing something right.

"And what is it yer want from me?" he chokes out.

"It's what you want from _me_," I answer, "But it'll cost you."

He licks his lips and looks back at his house, "I'll give twenty-five pieces, new mint."

"Please," I scoff, starting to back away.

"Okay, okay, forty. But that's pushing it girl, that's costin' nearly as much as me pocket watch. I aint rich."

Forty pieces could feed us comfortably for a week, less if I got Annie some medicine or something. Less if I bought us some clothes so we didn't go to school looking destroyed.

"Deal," I whisper, brushing my lips against his neck. It happens pretty fast. We go into his house, I make him prove he has the money and he puts my cost in a pouch and leaves it on the dresser for me for when it's all over. The whole time I kept reminding myself that we could eat. We could finally eat. That this was the only way out.

"Thank ye kindly, lass."

I get up from his bed and slip my dress back on. I take the money from the dresser and leave wordlessly, disappearing back into the night. I meant to walk home, but instead my feet lead me straight to the beach, where I tie the pouch to my wrist and then walk straight in until I'm fully submerged. The tide is raging so I stay in a pool where the current is soft. It's there that I clean and scrub my skin with sand over and over until I feel okay to go home. Annie and Echo are still asleep and the sky is just starting to lighten with the promise of the sun. I fall onto my mat and stare straight ahead. Before I can help it, tears start splashing the brim of my nose and run down my cheek. I try to wipe them away, but they just keep coming. I roll over and look at Annie's blank, listless face and suddenly feel so bitter, so jealous of her. That she can just check out while the rest of us suffer.

"Say something," I whisper to her, my voice catching on the end, "Come on you helpless thing; speak."

But she doesn't. She doesn't even open her eyes. A sob racks my chest and I roll over again, pulling a blanket over my head to hide my face until morning.

But I don't feel low, or like I'm worthless. Echo and Annie need me, and I need to survive too. It's not like they can go do anything, so it's up to me. I have to keep us together. And if that means prostituting myself around the village to keep us alive, then fine. I don't care what I have to do. This is my family now. And as long as they need me, I have a purpose.

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

"WE WON! WE WON WE WON WE WON!"

Thirteen is an explosion of euphoria. The battle in the Capitol was won, apparently, and now the war is over. We can start the beginning of our new lives. I'm so happy I start crying and give Beetee the biggest hug he ever got.

_It's over. It's finally over!_

_I can go home!_

"Where's Finnick? And Peeta? Johanna? When can I see them?" I asked eagerly. Johanna snuck onto one of the hovercrafts to go fight in the Capitol even though they didn't want her to.

"They're sending a ship to the hospital in half an hour," Beetee answers with a breathless grin, "It's there that we'll find out what we need to know."

Right. What we need to know. Like are they even alive.

Is Katniss alive?

I waste no time getting myself a spot on the ship. No one really tries to stop me, they're too happy to argue. My heart is vibrating with excitement and anticipation. I keep telling myself to calm down and not get too excited just in case, but I can't. I'm too elated that it's all over. I'm too excited for what the future holds. For once in my life, in everyone's lives, there's enough hope for the whole nation.

It doesn't take too long to get the to Captiol. Probably two hours. But to me it feels like a lifetime. Katniss's mother is on board along with Beetee and Haymitch and Plutarch. Heavensbee has not stopped talking. Not once.

"It just all went so well," he chatters, "but of course we need to know the casualties, that's important. Yes. It's so exciting."

"Would you hold your tongue for a minute, Heavensbee? For all we know everyone's dead," Haymitch growls. He has a sort of victory on his face, but I know now he's really worried for Katniss and Peeta. I cross and uncross my legs a thousand times, having to move to contain my excitement. When we land, everyone tries to pour out at once. But some authorities from Thirteen keep us in line and guide us to the hospital. It's so much bigger here in the Capitol. I blink in wonderment until I see the smoke rising from the square in the distance. I was told that the battle ended last night, but the fact that it's still smoking means that there was definitely some major damage inflicted. The wails of the mourning haunt the air like a ghostly, miserable chorus. I shake my head and disappear into the hospital.

I'm assaulted with an onslaught of smells, sounds, and people. Doctors, nurses, and patients are running every which way, wheeling the injured on stretchers or treating the next patient. I dive into the flurry, searching for people I know.

Through conversations I overheard, Katniss was badly burned in during a bomb session and her heart has stopped twice. Her sister's dead. I look around for her mother, but she's disappeared into the fray. Haymitch has gone to her room. Peeta was burned too, but he's already awake and on the mend. Apparently Gale's about in the same condition.

"Annie!"

Johanna finds me wandering through the halls. I spin around to see her and am shocked when she hugs me.

"We won!" she exclaims, "We actually won! Snow's going to get it."

I grin, "I heard! Do you know where Finnick is?"

She shakes her head. "I haven't seen him."

I break away at that point and keep pushing through the halls. It feels like it did when I was rescued from the Capitol. Any moment, Finnick will be waving to me through the crowd and we'll crash into each other.

"Annie? Annie?!"

It's not Finnick, it's Peeta. He's lying in a hospital bed across from me. I'm disappointed, but I'm happy to see him at least. I shoulder my way through the tide of people and enter his room. There are three other burn victims sleeping off their wounds with morphling drips in their arms. A quick scan tells me Finnick isn't there.

"Peeta, I'm glad to see you're alive. How are you?" I ask breathlessly. I'm dying to continue my search, but I can't just ignore Peeta. He has a lot of burn marks on him and some other wounds.

"I'm alright, they have me on a lot of pain meds I think…"

He's looking at me in a funny way, like he's trying to work something out. "How are you?"

"I'm great!" I tell him with shining eyes, "I'm looking for Finnick. Do you know where he is?"

His face falls and a little part of me falls with it. But I'm determined to stay positive. If he's badly injured, I can help him heal. As long as he's alive.

"Annie…" Peeta says slowly. He winces in pain and closes his eyes a moment. When he opens them, they're teary.

"What is it? Is he really hurt? Peeta, tell me where he is."

He looks at me miserably and says his next sentence fast, like he's spitting out poison, "Finnick died on our way to the Capitol. He saved—"

I have the sensation of being struck in the top of the head with a hammer and the room spins and crashes in until everything is black.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

I wake up in a hospital room myself. I blink as the light blinds me, and then moan, rolling over into my pillow.

_Okay, Annie. Think. Why are you here?_

I go through the previous events, but the reason comes to me pretty fast. Like the whip of wind when a train goes by.

_Finnick is dead._

My whole body feels sick. My heart feels sick. But no tears come to me. I just feel empty. Hollow. Meaningless.

_Finnick is dead._

_He's not coming._

_He's not going home._

I look beside me and see a few other people in bed, all looking haunted. Do I look like them? Well, probably. Maybe worse.

I slide out of the bed and look around. There's no nurses in the room at the present moment. In fact, it looks like everybody's fallen asleep. Some of the beds have boxes of tissues next to them, but nothing that's going to help _me._

In a kind of numb trance, I walk through the pathway of beds and check the medical tables. They've been smart, so far. I find someone with a little thing of pills, but there's only two so I leave them alone. My foot catches something and I stumble, gripping someone's bed for support. I freeze, holding me breath. They stir but don't wake up, so I keep moving until I enter another room where there are a few injured people. A nurse leaves the room before she sees me, so I continue to the tray of medical supplies she left behind.

My body feels like it's made of ice, but I can still feel the desperate moving of my heart.

_Thud. Thud. Thud._

"Shut up," I whisper to it. "Shut up, will you?"

But it refuses. It keeps thudding, pulsing me with life that I don't want anymore. I examine the different tools on the tray and shiver at the ones that look sinister.

_Shake shake shake,_

_The stories they'll make_

_Life is terrible, life is sore_

_I don't want it anymore_

_Where is Fin? Poor Fin is dead._

_The Capitol came to chop off his head. _

I reach out for the long metal tool with a scalpel at that end. It weighs heavy in my hands and feels as icy as my insides. I blink at the light it reflects back into my eyes.

_Scrape scrape scrape _

_It's time to escape._

_Where is everyone?_

_Everyone's dead._

_Thud thud thud should be dead instead._

My heart quickens, like it's telling me not to. "Shut up," I tell it, "You've hurt me enough."

I raise the scalpel to my wrist and sink the tip of the blade into the blue snakes under my skin, but suddenly my hand is stopped.

"Annie! No, you can't!"

I look up in blank shock to see Katniss's mother holding both of my wrists. She squeezes the right one until my hand drops the scalpel to the ground. The sound of it hitting and the sight of my blood snaking from the small slit I managed to make suddenly makes me furious. Furious with everything, everyone. Livid at the blonde, ashy woman with wide eyes currently in front of me.

"When will you people STOP?!" I scream to her face, "STOP protecting me! Stop trying to keep me alive, dammit, it's my choice! MINE! And I don't want to be here anymore. It's not like I can do anything to help, so just LEAVE ME ALONE AND LET ME MAKE IT _STOP_!"

"Shhh, Annie, listen to me—"

"NO!" I cry, though the only tears that show are of anger, "I'm done. I quit. My heart hurts. Just let me go." My voice is breaking into pieces so I shut up and just try to pull myself out of her grip, but her hands are like steel clamps.

"Listen to me Annie, you _can't _kill yourself, this isn't about you," she urges me, trying to hold eye contact. I avoid it even though it seems childish.

_Thud thud thud._

_It's gloating. Heart is gloating because it can still sing._

_Sing, sting, ache, break._

_Thud thud thud thud thud._

"Then what's it about?" I ask in a wretched voice. My eyes land on the scalpel and I rip my hand out of hers and reach for it. My fingers get nicked when the woman kicks it away.

"Annie you can't!" she shouts desperately, clamping her arms around me to hold me up, "You're pregnant Annie! You can't kill yourself! You're pregnant!" I slouch over in defeat and shock but she supports me, her voice coming down every time she repeats it, comforting me with her voice and by patting me with her hands. "You're pregnant. You're pregnant, shhh, it's okay. It's going to be okay."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

I'm not sure how long it's been. Maybe a few weeks. Everything's on hold because Katniss is supposed to kill Snow, but she's laid up with some serious burn wounds. Her mother—who I found out is named Lillian—found out that Prim died shortly after she stopped me from killing myself. I've seen her a few times since, going through the hallways with a dry, heartbreaking expression on her face. I guess I can sympathize.

It's incredible—even to me—that I'm not crumbling over this. I haven't even cried yet, save for the angry tears that came when I was yelling at Lillian. I wake up numb, I go to bed numb. Food has no taste and I have an alarm that goes off to remind me to even eat at all. Most of the time I have I spend laying on a bed and resting my hands on my stomach. It's fascinating how, in the short time we had together, I was able to preserve a piece of Finnick inside me. While it's miraculous, I almost don't like it. It's a constant reminder of the whole of Finnick, who I now know was lost underground. They couldn't even find enough of his body to bury. When I close my eyes, I imagine his face and try to keep that image there. But as the days go past, the image gets more and more warped the harder I try to cling to it. He's too beautiful or his face isn't the right shape. I can't say I'm surprised, my minds betrayed me before, but I need to remember him for how he was. Not in fragments.

_I wonder what his eyes looked like when they were blown out of his head?_

I mentally punish myself for thinking things like that. It's not going to help either way. I close my eyes and focus on getting that image—however blurry—back.

_You're pregnant._

I'm not sure how I'm going to be able to handle a child. Am I even qualified for this sort of thing?

And what do I do if it's a boy and looks just like Finnick? What am I going to do? Never look at him so I won't be reminded of his father?

Father.

Finnick would have been so happy to find out that we're having a child. I saw the way he was with Kai and Kiandra, he loves kids. I can't imagine going through this alone…going through this without Finnick. Parents are supposed to be a team. I'm not Pearl, I was never cut out to be a single parent the way she was to Echo and me.

I try not to think about it. In fact, I mostly just try not to think. I know Finnick is dead, but I feel nothing. It's like being out on a ship in the middle of the sea, when no land is in sight and you're not sure if there' going to be any for a while. And the whole time there's a massive storm looming in, but you turn your back on it. Mostly because you can't avoid it and it will eventually hit. But until it does, you're better off not looking at it. Not worrying about it. To only deal with it when it starts to rain and thunder and toss your ship. My grief is coming, but until it does I'd rather not stress over it.

"I want to go home," I tell Beetee. Peeta hasn't been well enough to visit and Johanna doesn't ever have much to say. I've always found his presence comforting anyway, he's smart like my father was.

"I know, dear. But we can't yet. Everything's in chaos and transportation is going to be hard to get anywhere for a while. Plus, we're the courageous victors, remember? We're the ones who still live; we're reminders to the people what the Capitol did to children for seventy-five years. We still have a few jobs here before we can go."

I nod but it doesn't soothe me. "I don't even know if my family is still alive. Can't I at least talk to them somehow?"

Beetee looks at me sympathetically and I don't even get angry. He's lost so much, it's not like I can say he doesn't know how I feel. "There's not, I'm sorry. Unless they call looking for you, I'm afraid there's too much confusion in the districts to make any house calls. But we'll find them soon enough. This is all just the after effects of an explosion and the smoke just hasn't cleared yet."

"I need my sisters, Beetee," I say miserably, dropping my face into my hands. He wraps an arm around my shoulder—a little awkward because I don't think he's one for a lot of physical contact—and says, very kindly, "Well you've got us for now."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

So I guess Katniss kills Snow today. That's what everybody's been saying. I hear a lot of talking as I wander the halls of the hospital. No one really seems to mind me, so I don't mind them. I visit Peeta in the burn unit sometimes, but he's rarely available to talk. Gale and Johanna often pair off and talk about the final battle. I guess he has some sort of moral complex over what he did with the bombs. Bombing children was how we won the war. Whether it was our attack or not, Katniss's sister ended up dead. Which I guess effects Gale. Not sure. I'm just trying to keep up so that no one asks me how I'm doing. The more I focus on other people and feign interest in things, the less I have to be reminded of my own emptiness. I don't tell anyone I'm pregnant either. I'm not really ready to answer any of those questions.

"Annie, there's a meeting with the remaining tributes," Haymitch tells me. He's quite drunk and dressed in the gray rebel uniform of Thirteen. "So get dressed and come down to A62 in the mansion, would you please?"

"What for?" I respond. He shrugs and leaves and I'm brought a matching gray uniform. I put it on without a fight and allow someone to bring me to the room I'm supposed to meet at. Inside are Johanna, Haymitch, Beetee, Peeta, and Enobaria. I take a seat and look around at everyone. No one looks particularly well. Finally Katniss enters in her Mockingjay suit and glances at all of us. I can't help but feel a strange mix of pity and animosity towards her. She's a victim, of course, but never before in my life have I met someone so oblivious to those who love her.

"What's this?" she asks. Her voice sounds raspy, like one that hasn't been used very often for some time.

"We're not sure," Haymitch answers, "It appears to be a gathering of the remaining victors."

"We're all that's left?" she asks in disbelief. The image of Tristan getting shot in the head flashes across my eyes and I close them, hoping to avoid more horrors.

"The price of celebrity," Beetee says sadly, "We were targeted from both sides. The Capitol killed the victors they suspected of being rebels. The rebels killed those thought to be allied with the Capitol."

"So what's _she_ doing here?" Johanna hisses, pointing her finger at Enobaria.

"_She_ is protected under what we call the Mockingjay Deal," says Coin as she enters the room, "Wherein Katniss Everdeen agreed to support the rebels in exchange for captured victors' immunity. Katniss has upheld her side of the bargain, and so shall we."

This elicits a smile from Enobaria who points in at Johanna. "Don't look so smug, we'll kill you, anyway," she barks back.

"Sit down, please, Katniss," Coin says. She finds a seat between me and Beetee and places a white rose on the table. None of us ask.

Coin starts in on some long dialogue with political terms strung through it. My brain is too worn to really follow anything she's saying. I get the jist that there's a debate and we have to be the deciding vote. And then I hear;

"What has been proposed is that in the lieu of eliminating the entire Capitol population, we have a final, symbolic Hunger Games, using the children directly related to those who held the most power."

We all turn to her in shock. "What?" Johanna chokes.

"We hold another Hunger Games using Capitol children," Coin simplifies.

"Are you joking?" Peeta echoes my thoughts.

"No. I should also tell you that if we do hold the Games it will be known it was done with your approval, although, the individual breakdown of your votes will be kept secret for your own security."

"Was this Plutarch's idea?" Haymitch asks.

"It was mine," Coin says, almost proudly, "It seemed to balance the need for vengeance with the least loss of life. You may cast your votes."

"No!" bursts Peeta, giving me some relief that somebody was able to speak out on it, "I vote no, of course! We can't have another Hunger Games!"

"Why not?" Johanna retorts, seeming to drink the idea, "It seems very fair to me. Snow even has a granddaughter. I vote yes."

"So do I," Enobaria adds, "Let them have a taste of their own medicine."

I have a sick taste in my mouth. Every vote for yes takes away what little hope I had left for humanity.

"This is why we rebelled! Remember?" Peeta looks at the rest of us and finds me. "Annie?!"

"I vote no with Peeta," I say in the strongest voice I can manage, "So would Finnick if he were here."

"But he isn't, because Snow's mutts killed him," Johanna reminds me. I shoot her such a poisonous look that her face actually flattens out and her eyes drop to the table.

"No," says Beete, much to my relief, "It would set a bad precedent. We have to stop viewing one another as enemies. At this point, unity is essential for our survival. No."

"We're down to Katniss and Haymitch," Coin says, unmoved.

Katniss stares into the rose and chews on her thoughts for a while. I can't believe she has to think about it. Finally, in her damaged voice, she says, "I vote yes…for Prim."

_Ironic,_ I think at her, _how that's the exact opposite thing you could do for your sister._

Beetee must sense my rising fury because he places his hand on my shoulder. I shrug it off and clench my fists until I think I'm bleeding.

"Haymitch, it's up to you," Coin says.

"I'm with the Mockingjay."

"Excellent. That carries the vote. Now, we really must take our places for the execution."

I rise up in fury and slam my chair against the wall, which breaks the leg of it. Katniss doesn't see it because she surrounded by people prepping her for the big kill. But everyone else does. They blink at me as I pick up the broken leg and fling it at Johanna. It hits the table first and the splinters ricochet at her face.

"HOW COULD YOU?!" I demand, feeling my body shaking. Her mouth is open but she says nothing. Peeta puts his head down on the table in misery. Haymitch is sitting there with an unreadable expression, but it's not shame. Not the shame I want him to feel.

"Innocent children," I scream at him, "They didn't choose ANY of this! Did you, Hatmitch? You wretched, inhuman piece of waste. Did you walk into the Hunger Games feeling like it was justice for what your ancestors did? Are you saying, that all this time, it was justified for us to go into the games because of choices we didn't make? Is that what you're saying?! That I deserved this? That Finnick deserved this? That you're little girlfriend in your games deserved to be skewered by mutts? That Rue deserved to die?! Seeder? Cynthia? Marina? Troy? I guess it was all in justice then, that those countless children from your district were slaughtered every year, and under your guidance too might I add. That's good. I'm glad it was ALL in the name of justice!"

"There's some—" Haymitch tries to say, but I cut over him.

"SHUT UP you miserable thing. You've said enough. You've _done _enough. I'm ashamed of you. ALL of you who let this happen. That could be your child going into that arena. Or mine. It doesn't matter, because they're _children. _We were children. And every single one of you who thinks that the price of someone else's sins should be paid in a child's blood is as sick and worthless as Snow and deserves to be right up there in the gallows with him.

I storm out and make sure to slam the door plenty hard behind me. I loved the look on their faces. But I also know that my words can't change anything. That it's been done. It's too late. But I shamed them. And I know that during the execution, Johanna and Peeta will come to my side like nothing had happened. But for the time, it felt good be just as wickedly unfair, just as cruel as everybody else.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"Who wants to bet that she'll miss?" Johanna asks with a tinge of humor. I was right of course, everyone joined my in the Victor's balcony to watch the execution of President Snow. I'm still fuming but it's better not to speak about what happened in the voting room. I'll find a way to stop those games before they happen anyway, I doubt other people are going to agree with the vote. I hear Gale breath a heavy sigh. He joined us even without a victor status. Judging by the size of his gun, he's probably guarding us. And Katniss.

Haymitch is front row next to Beetee and Gale. I'm next to Peeta and Johanna and Enobaria lingers behind, not really fitting in.

_Maybe she realizes how high we are and that it'd only take a few seconds for Johanna to push her over the edge?_

Katniss enters and we all fall silent. Snow's crimes are read out loud to everybody who's gathered in the square and balconies. My body is quivering in anticipation even though the whole thing makes me uneasy. Coin's smirk can be seen from all the way to the back.

Katniss draws back her arrow and points it between his eyes. But she hesitates. Before anyone can do anything, she points the arrow and Coin and fires it straight between her eyes. The woman falls from the perch and to the cement below where the shocked crowd rushed to avoid her. Only then, when the cameras cut out and we see Katniss being surrounded does the real shock settle in.

"What the hell was _that?_" Johanna gasps. Gale cocks his gun and aims it straight for Katniss's head. We can hear her screaming his name and suddenly I know what he's going to do. But Johanna clamps her hand down on his arm.

"This is what she wants," he shouts at her, "We promised."

"I don't care," Johanna retorts firmly, "They're not going to kill her. She'll be fine. Give her a damn chance."

"Right smart move," Haymitch grumbles, "Surprising, but damn. She's got more brains then the rest of us."

Beetee is already doing calculations in his mind. This all must be about politics that I don't comprehend.

_Doesn't matter,_ I tell myself,_ I never really liked her as a leader anyway._

The crowd is in a roar of hysteria and shock. Snow collapses on his death spot with blood foaming from his mouth. I remember what Finnick told me about the poison and the ulcers in his throat and mouth. I shiver and realize he's probably dead.

_Convenient._

Gale looks back and forth between us and the scene with Katniss. Peeta's scarred face is white when he stands up. "She's going to kill herself!" he realizes, tripping over benches as he leaves.

"Shit, the pills!" Haymitch curses, stumbling up too. But he's too disoriented to make it out. I follow Johanna and Gale as they run after Peeta. Inside we are in a velvet rugged hallway and the guards are dragging in Katniss at the end of it. She's kicking and screaming. I see Peeta as he makes it there and slams his hand over Katniss's secret compartment just as she tries to open it with her teeth. I can't hear what's said, but Kantiss looks at him with such betrayal and confusion that it hurts to watch. She's dragged away and locked in a room, leaving the hall in eerie silence.

"Well, that's that," Johanna laughs, "who knew this would be such an exciting ceremony. Is Snow still alive? Can I have a go?"

She wanders off somewhere and I'm left with Gale who's staring at the now empty hall like he's seen a ghost.

"I should have killed her," he said, "It was the last thing I could have done for her. We agreed we would never let each other fall into the Capitol's hands again."

"But she's not," I remind him, "she's in the hands of the new age. I'm sure she'll be alright. They can't go hurting the savior of the revolution, now, can they? What kind of precedent would that set for the new beginning?"

"The same another Hunger Games would," he says bitterly. My heart twinges with the poison of it and I shrug. Peeta returns to us with a bloody hand and tears in his eyes. Gale looks at him and then says, "Bye, Peeta."

"Bye."

Then he turns on his heels and walks away. "Come on," I say gently, taking Peeta's elbow, "Let's get you patched up."

O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Apparently Katniss is under trial. It's all the rage everywhere, but I don't really have the heart to follow it. I already know how it ends; she gets out. Broken, scarred, and never the same. But she'll survive. She always survives.

In the meantime, Johanna, Peeta, and me move into a temporary house and form a sort of family. It features Beetee as the wise old uncle who often visits and feeds us information on the case and when we can go home. Enobaria is the hated cousin who never comes around unless she's forced to. Eventually she disappears altogether, but I never ask what happened. Lillian, Katniss's mother, becomes the workaholic aunt who none of us know what to say to. She's always present, checking on our health, but rarely speaks. Perhaps she's too sad. Katniss is the rebellious cousin who everyone hears about but never sees because she's in jail, and Haymitch as the unpleasant—though not unwelcome—uncle who usually has enough alcohol on his breath to get his neighbors drunk from the smell of it.

We're all just waiting. Waiting to see what's in store for the world. Waiting to see what happens to Katniss. Waiting to go home. Waiting to see if we're ready to face home.

It's been two weeks since Coin's assassination. Emergency elections were held and Paylor was just signed in as the new President. And a much better one than Coin, might I add. She already abolished the new Hunger Games and had the arenas destroyed as her first order of business. There's rumors of memorials and hospitals and all sorts of wonderful things. Transportation is also clearing up, but I haven't inquired on it. I don't want to know right now.

Tonight I lay in my bed with my hand on my stomach. I can't feel a swell yet, but I know it's in there. There's no way I could have so much gumption without the extra hormone rush. But even the child inside of me cannot fill the hollow emptiness that I've become. I'm nothing but a shell. A transportation device for a new living being. One that can take my life and Finnick's and go on with it. I don't know what I'm going to do, but I'm still on my ship. I still have my back turned towards the storm.

I look up from my stomach and see Troy standing at the foot of my bed, his gored body cradling his head who's eyes blink at me. His blood snakes slighter out from his neck and onto the white tile floor. I stare back at him, fear clutched in my throat. He notices my fear and his body places his head on the floor. Then he picks up Finnick's head and holds it up to me. I cover my ears with my hands as I stare at the palor of his face, the frayed flesh in his neck, and the listless look in his green eyes. I'm afraid he might speak. But he doesn't speak. His head sways slightly by the threads of his hair that are wrapped in Troy's hands. He stumbles towards me, closer and closer until I can see every detail on Finnick's face. I stare at it blankly. Troy's arms lift the head and push it forward, until Fin's cold, rubber lips connect with mine and the world spins out of proportion.

When I snap out of it and rub my eyes, the scene is gone. I'm in my room. In the dark. Johanna and Peeta are asleep in the adjacent rooms that I can see across the hall. There's no Troy. And no Finnick.

In the past I would have screamed. I would have cried. I would have panicked until my vocal chords bled and my heart nearly burst. But I didn't. I raise my hand and touch my lips which haven't moved. They never moved at all. They were silent.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

In the next couple of months to come, Gale visits on occasion to check up on Katniss's condition and trial. But he doesn't visit her and we learn from Beetee that it may have been their bomb that killed Prim. Which means Gale is out of the picture for good with Katniss. But I can see he still cares. And that it's killing him.

But there's another thing I see. Often he and Johanna end up talking for hours on end, mostly on crass topics I tend to avoid. But nonetheless, they talk. And even though Gale has some fancy new job and Johanna plans to return to Seven, I think they'll make their way back to one another. After the hurting has had time to heal and the smoke settles a bit on the world. They're both fighters and survivors. Full of passion and bravery that often remains unsung. Johanna was describing her torture to Gale one day on his visit—only because he asked—and he commented on how remarkably brave she is. It wasn't romantic, more admiring, but I guess I'm sensitive to that sort of thing. But because she's tough and stubborn, she doesn't get upset when he leaves for Two and doesn't return. We all knew eventually he wasn't going to return, when he realized he could let go of Katniss. But he'll be back. Maybe in Seven because I don't think he can return to Twelve. For Johanna. Even if it takes him fifty years. I have a feeling she's in no rush anyway.

At the beginning of the third month, Johanna sits up straight and makes an announcement. "Guys, I'm going home."

Beetee, Haymitch, me, Peeta, Cressinda, and Pollux all look at her. Cressinda and Pollux—former members of Katniss's camera crew—just returned from shooting footage in the districts on the damage the war caused. They're here for a holiday, and then going right back to work.

"Are you really?" Peeta asks, genuinely interested. She nods and has a set look to her.

"I'm ready for it," she says, "I really just want to go home."

We nod and that's pretty much the end of it. Two days later we give her hugs and kisses and words of encouragement. She doesn't know I'm pregnant, but when she comes away from our hug she gives me a look that says she may have just found out. But she keeps her mouth shut and just says, "I promise I'll visit. Good luck with everything."

And then, after saying all of her good-byes, Johanna boards the train and we have her off as it zips away and out of sight. Me and Peeta are left with all our previous dinner guests at the train station, silently thinking about our own homes. We're still not ready to go back.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

I wake up to the sound of Peeta screaming. There was a slight turn in Katniss's trial today and it's been effecting him. It's been nearly four months since she's been locked up. But it feels like forever.

I'm glad my bed is narrow enough not to have room for a potential second person. That's why I chose it. I don't need the constant reminder of that empty space. But Peeta's bed is rather large, so when I enter his room and find him in a tangle of sheets, I slip easily next to him and wrap my arms around his shoulders.

"Shh, Peeta, it's okay."

He wakes up and finds my face and then lets out a large breath of relief. I feel him shaking and I hold him tightly against me, reveling in the feeling of being wrapped in someone again. He folds easily against me and cries.

"Annie, I don't know what to do. I feel like I'm going insane."

I smile and pet his hair. "Tell me about it."

"I don't understand how you're doing it," he moans, "How can you be so strong after losing him?"

"I'm not Peeta," I say simply, stroking his arm comfortingly. "Never believe that I am. I'm a coward."

"But you haven't even—"

"Exactly. At least you're facing your grief, Peeta."

After some time he falls back asleep with his head against my the scoop in my collarbone. I watch his blond wavy hair move up and down with my breathing and close my eyes. His body is so _warm._ It feels good to comfort him, to be needed. It feels good to not be so alone.

So the next night, when I stare up at my ceiling with my hand over my slightly swelled stomach, I can no longer stand the chill of the nothingness around me. I can no longer stand the abuse of my delusions and nightmares alone. I get up and walk to Peeta's room, where I find him in a similar position; sprawled out on his back with his eyes to the ceiling.

"Please let me stay," I whisper, standing in his doorway. I don't know why I feel so vulnerable. I have one arm crossed protectively over my body. "I don't like being alone. I've never been so isolated in my life."

He looks at me and then lifts his one arm as if to make room for me to fall into it. I do and almost smile with the relief that comes with having a warm body and a set of arms to engulf me. To make me feel a little safer. And I think it's better for Peeta too, because he doesn't scream so much in his nightmares after that. It's not quite romantic because we both know what the other one is doing. That he's the shell of Finnick for me and I'm the shell of Katniss. And yet we also mean so much to one another that remains unspoken. Better that way really, because there's nothing to define it. Except for maybe protectors. I'm not sure. But it's nice not to wake up from the horror of dreams alone.

"You were having a nightmare," he told me one night, "You're body was all stiff and rigid. You were so silent your face was turning blue."

I blink at him and realize he's right because I'm panting. I remember the scene that unfolded in my mind, a scene of blood and death and loss. Of Pearl and Echo dead and Kai and Kiandra left in the wilderness. So detailed. So real.

"When you're insane, you have the most vivid dreams," I echo to him.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Five and a half months into the trial. I'm no longer at a point where I can hide my pregnancy, which I'm relieved to find everyone handles quite well and without a lot of comments on how great of a father Finnick would have been. Peeta thinks it'll be good for me and is happy a part of his friend was preserved. Everything still feels so unreal, so out of my control. Like this is someone else's life.

Peeta and I are in the living room watching the sun start to set outside, but Katniss's mother is present in the house somewhere. Peeta likes her company, and I don't mind it either. I like to provide distractions for her to keep her mind from her grief.

"Annie, I don't know if I can go home," he says finally. It's become apparent that Katniss is going to be released. It's just a matter of confirming it. I look at him and study his blue eyes and the scar on his forehead. The emptiness in my throbs and I suddenly have the urge to go to him. I stand and without hesitation, I press my lips to his and wrap my arms around his neck. He responds and I feel his hands on the nape of my neck and my back. It's strange how we can be embraced like this and it still is something besides romance. It's almost theater. But in theater you don't appreciate the warmth of the other actor. You don't find relief in their presence.

And, during the embrace, it hits me. That maybe other people would consider this love. Except that we've known greater love. I loved Finnick more than it ever could be possible, and he felt the same for Katniss. Love so large it swallows the sun when it leaves. Both of us could never really accept any other kind of romance except the one that we lost. So our relationship both pales in comparison and provides only temporary reverie from the crushing storm awaiting us. Mine is an empty home and an endless ocean. His is a charred home and the shadow of his world in the form of a girl who may or may not love him. But how could she not? When he loves her so much.

We break away and it's not awkward nor is it regretful. I put my hand on the side of his face and look straight into his eyes.

"The war is over, Peeta. You can go home. Or you can stay here forever. It's your choice."

At dinner, I find that Peeta has decorated the fish with a flower and created some fancy piece of confectionary art he calls dessert. When he sets the food down and sees my face looking up at him, he hangs his head and opens his palms.

"I miss Katniss," he says.

"You know what I've always found helps people with their pain?" I ask him. He looks at me and I keep going. "Finding someone who needs you. It gives you a purpose that you didn't have before. Finnick always told me that's kind of the way I made him feel sometimes. That because I needed him, he was important. For my sister Pearl, it was always taking care of me and Echo. For me, maybe it's this baby, I don't know. But for you, maybe it's Katniss. She's lost so much and now even her sister is gone. I'm willing to bet she's going to need _somebody._"

So later that night, when Haymitch and Beetee visit our house to pass the time, I take in a deep breath and say, "I'm going home."

No one answers with words, but I get a sturdy nod. Like they knew it was coming. I think Peeta knew the moment dinner ended. The words feel foreign and strange in my mouth, but it's time. I serve no more purpose here, and it's time to go.

"You should come," I tell Lillian when I see her, "I'm sure there's work somewhere. And the ocean is an excellent way to clear your head."

I find out shortly after that Lillian does follow me to Four, and builds her own hospital there.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

I'm standing beside the train, saying good-bye to everyone. To Cressinda. Pollux. Plutarch. Paylor. Then Haymitch. And then Beetee. They wish me well with the baby and Beetee says he'll visit me soon. I get to Peeta and wrap my arms so tightly around him I think my bones will snap.

"Good luck," he says kindly, kissing my forehead.

"What are you going to do?" I ask him.

"Follow her, I guess. I'll be heading home soon. But we'll write. And I'm sure we'll see each other again, won't we?"

"Of course," I say with honesty. Memorial events, get-together, it didn't matter. Eventually we would see each other again. And I could wish him and Katniss all the best and they could meet Finnick's child.

"You're a wonderful person Annie," he says, "And braver and stronger than you think."

"The same is said for you," I say with a smile. I kiss his forehead and then board the train. I even wave to them as it starts up and before I know it, the Capitol is behind me.

The ride home is lonely. There's other people on the train, but I don't recognize them. I don't sleep at night. I feel emptier and emptier as the hours and days pass. I don't know what state my home is in. I don't know who's alive. I know that it was announced I'm returning. But who's going to be there is a mystery. A mystery that makes me weak.

But when we cross the border and the ocean can be seen racing by the window, I watch it with a swollen feeling in my chest.

_Home. The ocean is still here._

And miraculously unchanged.

The train stops and my knees shake. I suck in a deep breath and walk out into the sun, into the salty, dewy air. The light is blinding.

And when I step down onto the sand and dare open my eyes, I see them. Pearl and Echo standing on the platform, looking a little worse for wear but alive. Pearl's hair is cut short and she seems a lot older. Echo is taller and thin with heavy bags under her eyes. Kai and Kiandra sit oblvious at their ankles. They look at me, and I look at them.

And then finally, after months and months of nothing but hollowness, I feel every single wall break down at once and I fall to my knees at their feet. All my pain, all my anguish is read in their eyes. They know he's gone. They know exactly who I am and how I feel. They know I'm broken and need to be held together. So I remain there and cry and let them engulf me in their open arms.


	48. Chapter 47

****_Hey guys, two more chapters after this one! Please excuse the jumping, i'm just trying to cover all the plot points. For all you concerned about how finnick fits in to all this, all i have to say is patience. i don't believe in immediate gratification. and with that note, happy reading!_

**47**

**Sunlight**

"PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME!"

I look down at the knife in my hand, covered in Finnick's blood. He's looking wide-eyed at me as he falls to his knees. "Please don't go," he begs, even as he dies by my hand.

"I should have given you a reason to stay," I tell him, casting down the knife. "I have to get rid of you. I can't remember you anymore. I can't think of you."

"Annie, please don't."

I fall down to my knees and take his face in my hands so that I can find his eyes. "But you're _everywhere_ Fin. I can't eat. I can't sleep. You've been everywhere. It's killing me inside, you don't understand."

He shakes his head and then collapses with his head on my shoulder. I wrap my arms around him and cry.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. But I can't keep doing this."

When I open my eyes, they have real tears in them. I'm staring at the palm leaf rooftop of my old house, before Pearl got married and I moved to Victor Village. still dark but everything glows a little. Like the sun is just about to rise.

This is the second time I've tried to kill my memories of Finnick in my dreams. It's not worked. And what's worst it's not even _him_ in my memories. He doesn't look quite right, like he's behind a mask. There's no pictures of him, and my mind distorts him, so it's more and more like the memory of Finnick is slipping from me. And at the same time, clinging tighter to me with every strangling second.

My house in Victor's village was destroyed during the battle here, along with Finnick's. Our memories living together lay in heaps of ash on the sand, getting carried away with the tide. Stephen was sent to the outer districts to fight, but he hasn't returned. So it's just me, Echo, and Pearl. Besides Kai and Kiandra, everything's like it was. Except that we're older and sadder. They all live in Stephen's house while I live in the hut. And I'm pregnant.

It was my choice to live here, alone and by my beach. Everyone knows Finnick is dead. I guess it was put on a list of casualties. Which means everywhere I go, people are walking on eggshells. I don't want to be alone. But company, when it's not the company you want, makes you feel almost lonelier. As if nothing in the world can comfort you. Besides, I'd rather sleep here so that they won't be worried when they see me cry straight through the night. They already take care of me. They make me eat. Go on walks. Visit Lillian's hospital for vitamins for the baby. All sorts of things. But they never have to remind me to bathe. I'm always in the water, sitting in the shallows and letting the sandy waves lap over me. I find wetness to be a good cover for the constant stream of miserable tears. I almost prefer my hollow, shell of a self than all this torment all the time.

And the nightmares. They've gotten so much worse. If it's not of Finnick dying, it's of someone else dying or being tortured. I dream about my nights in the Capitol prison a lot. Sometimes I dream about coming home from the train and finding everything on fire and no sisters. I have nightmares about what happened to Stephen and Finnick's friends. But I haven't had a single good dream. Not one. They've been so vivid, so real, and yet the faces are distorted. I don't realize it until I awake, but it's like my mind doesn't let the ones I love to be represented correctly in my nightmares. As if it dishonors their memories to be part of my nightmares.

I sigh and get up with a little difficulty because of my swollen belly. I walk out until I'm on my seashell beach with the gray ocean rolling under the overcast clouds. The sun is rising on the edge of the horizon, casting its tangerine light in a squiggly line over the water. It's incredible how, even though the houses and square have mostly been destroyed, the ocean is just so magnificently constant. I walk straight into its folds until it goes over my head. I stretch out my arms and lift my feet so that I float weightlessly in the in-between.

_Like flying._

My hair snakes around my face and arms like a dark cloud. I decide it's time for hair and breach, gasping as the cool air strikes my face. There's seagulls gliding lazily overhead and taking refuge on the water further out. I suck in a full breath and sink under again until my toes connect with the sand. I open my eyes and see the dark, slippery body of a shark circling right next to me. I freeze and watch as he haunts the empty blue space beside me, guided by his black orb eyes. It's a bull shark based off its stout nose and probably nine feet long. It's not abnormal to see a shark at dawn because it's their prime feeding time. And it's overcast, so they'll probably be out all day.

But this one is here. Now. And I'm extremely close. Not a single bubble of air escapes my mouth as we watch each other, the shark and I. There's a certain exhilaration in having something so powerful so close, and yet so terrifying. My lungs start to scream for air, but I'm too afraid to move. And even as he circles me for the last time and starts to swim away, I become more uneasy about the unknown. That at any moment, his gray figure would come charging out of the abyss and I'd have no way to defend myself. Or my baby.

So with careful, smooth strokes, I swim to the surface and paddle to shore, checking the water underneath every couple of strokes. When my feet connect with the beach, I fall to the sand in relief. A smile stretches over my face and I actually start laughing. My heart is thundering with the adrenaline.

_Thud thud thud thud. _

After I've calmed down and the sun has risen over the sea, I get changed and make my way to Pearl's house. It's received little damage besides a major luting during the chaos of battle. Pearl is standing in the kitchen next to a tray of rice and cut fruit.

"Troy's family came by," she said, "remember, the people Finnick cared for after you got out of your games?"

I nod.

_Of course I do._

"Well they brought you this. That girl Marina Salts—the one in from the games—her family stopped by too and gave us a crib and some blankets. They're in the back when you need them. I asked if any of them wanted to stay and talk to you, but they said they couldn't. Too emotional."

I look at the food and force myself not to cry. Echo comes downstairs with Kiandra in her arms and Kai in tow behind her. She hugs me briefly and plants a kiss on my cheek, which I return. After I was kidnapped by the Capitol, Pearl and Echo had no idea where I was until my neighbors reported seeing me being led out by a bunch of peacekeepers. Since then they've been driven mad trying to figure out what happened to me, where I was, and with who. They didn't even know I was alive until they saw the wedding between Finnick and I on one of the propos. They said they were so happy they cried.

We eat the food in comfortable silence, except for Kai who has a tendency to hum when he eats.

"He gets that from you," Pearl says to me, "You were always humming as a kid."

I remember that Troy told me I hummed at our camp and tears comes involuntarily to my eyes. No one says anything because I'm always crying. But to trump any concern about my welfare, I take an extra helping of food.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Later on in the day I'm sitting outside Pearl's house when Finnick's mother comes walking up the beach. I'm so surprised to see her face, and Finnick's in her features, that I actually choke on my water. Her hair is mangled and bronze and I can see the green in her eyes from my distance. She looks so tired and thin.

"Annie?" she calls out, spotting me. I give her a small wave and then she's rushing for me. "Annie! Oh, thank heavens. I heard that you came back."

She's on her knees in front of me and then her tired wet eyes fall from my face to my stomach and grow wide with shock. Her face twists up in emotion and her hand reaches up, gently resting her fingertips over the curve.

"Is this…" her voice dies away as she looks at me, her eyes filled with tears.

"It's his."

She sobs and places both hands on either side of my stomach and gently rests her forehead against it. I pat her head comfortingly, though I have no soothing words for her. I haven't felt encouraging in a long time.

"At least there's a part of him left in this world," she says finally, smiling sadly up at me. "We can hold on to that, can't we?"

"Sure," I say, though I don't feel the same.

"Oh, Annie, I'm so sorry. For everything's that has happened to you…I just—"

"It's okay," I say flatly, because I don't want to cry in front of Finnick's mother. "There are others out there who've gone through worse, I'm sure."

"Not many," she says in earnest. We look at each other for a while until I have to look away, because he's in her eyes. And it hurts to see.

"You'll let me stay, won't you?" she asks desperately, after some time. "I'm working with Team 7 to rebuild the area, so I'll be close. You'll let me be part of the baby's life, won't you?" I blink back at her and she takes my hand. "_Please._ Annie, I'm begging you. I have no one left."

I give her the warmest smile I can paint on and nod, "Of course you can."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

I'm dreaming. I know I'm dreaming. Everything's dark and there's something I'm reaching for. Something wonderful. Something blissful. But I can't find it. It's a dark abyss that has no corners, light, or ending. But still I'm searching for it. Lunging for it. Screaming for it.

And when I open my eyes, I find my arms stretched out on the bed, searching to embrace Finnick's warm body. But they're empty. I'm reaching, but there's just the empty place on the mat where he should be beside me. My heart aches and I recoil my arms into my chest and close my eyes, allowing a tear to roll down onto my pillow.

What I wouldn't give for just a piece of him back in my life. Just a morsel, a fragment of what our lives used to be. I don't care what it is, or what it isn't. I just want to reach out and touch him again. He could be a complete hallucination for all I care, as long as he's _here._

_But he's not, Annie. _

I freeze in shock, because there's suddenly a small kick from within me. The baby is moving, drumming with life. My hand rests on my stomach and I feel it kick again. All my resentment for the baby washes away, and a new feeling of determination replaces it.

_Pull it together._

There's no way this child could ever replace Finnick. But this pathetic mess of a girl will not do. Finnick would have been an excellent father, so I'm just going to have to try to be more like how he would be.

_Starting with getting this shack repaired._

And when I get to work, collecting sea shells to decorate the crib and fixing cracks in the walls, my nightmares accompany me, bloody and terrifying. Even Mags haunts me. But I keep my eyes from them and bury myself in the work. The shells are my favorite part. And one day, when I'm accompanied by Troy, I'm working on the windowsill when I hear him say; "Annie. You're humming."

And I am. I touch my lips with my hand and realize that I don't remember when I even started the song. After that I couldn't start up again, not by choice. But every once and a while, I'll catch myself. And it always makes me a little happy to know that at least after all this there's still music in me, however sad, completely unchanged by all the war and destruction. Just like the ocean.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

_Word is put out that there is to be a memorial in each district to honor the fallen tributes. Each district will be provided with a statue to serve as a reminder of their sacrifice, and the hope though reform that the new world has in store. It's the day of District Four's memorial, in the early morning._

I'm dressed in my cleanest frock and combed through my hair. I meet Beetee and Plutarch in the square as they get off the train.

"It's nice to see you again," I say, giving each of them an awkward hug. My stomach has gotten quite large.

"And more so you," Beetee replies, his glasses glinting in the sun. "What a lovely district you inhabit, Annie. The ocean is stunning."

"Thank you," I say, noting how hollow my voice is.

_Can I really handle this?_

"And look at that stomach!" Plutarch adds with enthusiasm, "You must be due quite soon?"

"Yes, that's what they tell me." They smile kindly and I take a deep breath. "Shall I show you around?"

"Oh, we'd love to take a look at the ocean," they tell me, but they can't stay long. They have to help set up for the service. So after a quick walk on the beach, they are off and I'm gathering in the square with my family and everyone left in our district.

_What a weathered lot we all turned out to be._

There's black banners hung on the ruins of the Capitol Building and various other buildings that make up the square. A nearby ship fires three canons to start out the ceremony, they're cracks echoing over the water and land. Echo takes my hand as my face goes white, remembering the canons as the sound of death. Of the end of someone's life.

"It's okay Annie, you're right here. At District Four. In the square," she whispers to me. I force myself to look around and confirm that it's true. There are so many people, and yet not nearly as much as there used to be. And they all look like they've seen a thousand years.

Paylor is here and is speaking about the loss of everyone's lives to the Hunger Games. Then I hear my name.

"Annie, would you like to come up here for us?"

I feel like I'm eighteen again, having my name called for the games. My heart jerks up and I see Beetee whispering something in her ear, but she waves him off. She finds me in the crowd and gives me an encouraging smile.

"You don't have to go," Pearl tells me. My eyes are locked on Paylor's. The crowd parts into an aisle for me to make my way to the stairs. Everyone's looking at me. But this time, even when my feet hesitate, no one comes to grab my arms. No one's screaming. I do look for Finnick for a moment, but of course I know he's not there. I place my hand protectively on my stomach and, with my chin raised; I make my way to the stage and stand up in front of the crowd. Paylor smiles with triumph and shakes my hand. Beetee and Plutarch stand beside me. My palms are facing out, like a dead person. I should be on that list of the deceased they called out. I'm more dead than any of them.

"Annie Cresta," the president says back to the audience, "The only living tribute from District Four to this day. She's suffered through the tyranny of the past regime more than any of us can begin to fathom. She's endured, and she stands before you today as one of the bravest people in all of Panem. Annie, we salute you and your courage."

Before I know it, everyone out in the square, on the stage, and those watching this on the screens beyond Four, slowly raise their hands in in a three finger salute. It's so silent, the waves can be heard crashing on the beach and the gulls calling above us. I stand still as a statue, not knowing what to do. What to say. I even stay silent as Paylor pays her special respects to Finnick, who fought with Thirteen during the war and acted a ray of sun to everyone he met. She acknowledges his final sacrifice, and a moment of silence is held in his honor. I feel someone holding me hand and find it's Beetee.

"I want to say something."

I don't know how the words escaped my mouth, but it's too late to take them back. Paylor looks surprised for a moment, then backs away from the microphone to allow me to stop forward. I stand there in shock for a moment, and then timidly force myself forward.

"Um…"

_Come one, Annie._

I find my family in the crowd. Pearl, Echo, Kai, and Kiandra. Finnick's mother. Troy's family. Marina's parents. The remains of Finnick's friends. My old childhood friends. These people are the people I grew up with. I developed my life with them. So surely, I can speak.

"Finnick's dead."

_Okay, not the best way to start._

"He died as the bravest man I ever knew. There's so many who gave their lives in the name of freedom. To anywhere else, he's another name on that list. But here, this was his home. He's a part of this place. And so is Tristan. And Mags. And Troy. Everyone who lost their lives. To us, they are not just names on a list. They're our home, pieces of it, that have been sacrificed to save the rest of it."

No one speaks, so I take a deep steadying breath and try to press on. It's hard, with the world spinning so much. "But we can't be angry or resentful about how they left us," I say slowly, as if the words are hard to form, "Like President Paylor said, we have a chance for a new beginning. That's what this all was for, anyway. Honor them by giving this world a chance. Don't look down at someone for their Capitol pedigree, or idolize someone for their district origins. Just try to make this life we've been given…something that was worth their sacrifice."

Everyone's still silent, and stay such until I'm the one who has to say cut.

Paylor resumes the stand but I allow myself to disappear behind the black curtain on the stage, where I dully faint into Plutarch's arms.

Next thing I know I'm standing in an arch in the square. I don't really know how I came to, but it's time for the monument to be erected and somehow I got here. Beetee is beside me and my family is close by.

"The statue was chosen especially in Finnick's honor," Beetee let's me know, "I got a voice in choosing it."

They raise it up, and I'm confronted with a large trident, shining gold in the sunlight. I feel a little dizzy, but Beetee already has my arm to support me. It's so tall and beautifully majestic, with thin designs carved into the surface. There's a plaque on the base that reads lyrics from an old song that we traditionally sing at funerals.

_The world is turning like the tide_

_And time is ever passing_

_Memories at the wayside_

_Collecting, ever amassing._

_Sacrifices, valor, and heart_

_Lives lost and those begun_

_Memories I set apart_

_Shining like the sun._

_Let the brave stand high_

_And the heroes tall_

_Their lives to the sky_

_I'll remember you all._

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

_(Roughly a month later)_

"How are you feeling today?" Pearl asks, setting a glass of water down on the counter. I'm wincing.

"Close. Any day now," I say through my teeth. She nods and points to the water, which I drink. She knows best after all, she's been here.

"You'll be alright. It's so much better when it's all over."

I nod. Pearl's eyes fall on the window behind me, and suddenly her face goes white and the glass in her own hand drops to the floor.

"What? What is it?!" I demand, spinning around. There, outside the window is none other but Stephen, calling out Pearl's name.

"Stephen!" she exclaims, rushing from the kitchen. My heart is pounding with joy and excitement, but when I stand, I feel excruciating pain and double over with my hand supporting me on the counter. I hear them call to each other and look up to see them embrace. He swings her around and kisses her and then they hold one another's faces as if making sure it's all real. I'm happy. And a little jealous.

"Stephen's back?!" I hear Echo call down from upstairs. I can't answer but I hear her rushing down the staircase with Kai and Kiandra in tow. They run through the kitchen and don't even see me clutching onto the counter. I hear their laughter as they embrace Stephen outside. The pain resides to a tolerable level and I straighten up. I continue outside to where everyone has gathered. Stephen is in some dark gray uniform with a high collar. He looks thin and much paler with a few scars on his hands and face, but the rest of it is still him. The same friendly smile, the same happy eyes. He's kissing Kiandra when I see him, but he soon looks up and spots me. His eyes fall to my stomach and get a little wider in shock. I see Pearl whisper something quickly to him and his smile yields a little, but he breaks loose from his family to come to me.

"Annie!" he says warmly, wrapping his arms around me. I hug him back, reveling in the beating heart under his uniform.

"Good to have you back," I tell him. We break apart and look each other over. I know he wants to ask, or at least talk about it.

"It happened sometime after we were married in Thirteen," I say flatly, "He died before he knew."

Stephen smiles comfortingly and rubs my arm. "You're stronger than anyone's given you credit for, anyway."

I smile back at him and then double over as another contraction hits. It feels like my muscles are trying to tear me apart.

"Annie?!"

I feel hands keeping me up. People are around me but I barely notice them. When the contraction passes, I find Pearl's face and it spells out everything.

"It's time, then?" I wince. She helps Stephen support me and I'm set down on a chair on the porch.

"How close are the contractions?" she asks, sending Echo to get me a glass of water.

"I'm not sure, but they're long," I say through gritted teeth. Right on cue, another one hits me and I squeeze the circulation out of Stephen's hand. It's decided and they have me on my feet, taking me to the hospital near the square. The one Katniss's mother runs. At first it's just Pearl helping me while Stephen and Echo take care of the kids. But when it becomes too much, she cries out in desperation.

"Stephen, I need you!"

Even I, though a little preoccupied, register the depth behind those words. Never once has Pearl ever said that she _needs_ anyone. And even though in the context, it may not mean much to an outsider, to me it means a world of difference. And from the look I see Stephen give Pearl, it means the world to him too.

They're both helping me along while Echo tows the kids. "Almost there," Stephen assures me when a contraction hits especially hard. I think somewhere along the way my water breaks. We're admitted straight into the hospital where I'm swept off my feet and brought into a room with Echo and Pearl. Stephen, though just returned home, gets to stay outside with his children.

I've experienced pain. But that doesn't make this any easier.

"Deep breaths," Pearl reminds me.

"Annie! Nice to see you," Lillian says with just the right hint of cheerfulness. I scream in pain and she shuts up and gets her team to work.

_Finnick, where are you?!_

For a moment, when the worst of the pain hits, I'm angry with him.

"IT'S A GOOD THING YOU'RE DEAD FINNICK, CUZ IF YOU WEREN'T, I'D _KILL_ YOU FOR THIS!"

I think my sisters laugh, and later on I probably will too, but at the time I really meant it.

"One more Annie, you're almost there," Lillian tells me in a soothing voice.

It happens pretty fast after that, and before I know it, the contractions stop and there's a bunch of cries of joy from the people in the room. The next moment I hear the gurgled, broken cry of a baby.

"It's a boy!" Lillian declares. I moan and fight the oncoming sleep. I blink to clear up my eyes just as they're handing me a tiny blanketed bundle. When I feel his weight in my arms and look down at his pink little face, I'm overwhelmed. He has a tiny little fist held up against his cheek, and his crying has already quieted into soft little baby garbles. I touch his tiny little face and see the wisps of wavy bronze hair peaking out from the blanket.

"He's beautiful, Annie," Echo says, as my two sisters sit on either side of me. I don't know what to say, but I let them stroke cheeks his their fingers and ogle over his little puffy mouth. "What are you going to name him?"

I had put some thought into this. I wanted to name my child after Finnick somehow, but I didn't want to make it as direct as his own name. It'd be too hard to hear that name all the time. But I came up with something else.

"Oriole," I say definitely.

"That's lovely. And why did you choose that?"

"It means gold. I chose it after Finnick."

They nod approvingly and Stephen—he was allowed to come in to see the baby—speaks up.

"There was a bird called an oriole back in one of the districts I was in. It's a great name, Annie."

I take in my family all around me. Kai hops up onto the bed and cranes his beck to better see his new cousin. Echo brings Kiandra up onto her lap so she can see better. Pearl goes to Stephen and wraps her arms around his chest, tucking her forehead against him. He kisses the top of her head and holds her like his world is in his grasp. And then I look down at my son, who seems to have fallen asleep. So delicate. So peaceful. So innocent. His life is in my arms; I can feel it surging through my bones. So this is what it feels like to be important. This is what it feels like to be needed.

_My son, my own tiny golden sun._


	49. Chapter 48

****_Sorry this took a while! Enjoy :) One more chapter to go after this! Happy reading, folks!_

**48**

**The Return of Gold**

A few days later I'm allowed to bring Oriole home with me. For a while we stay in Pearl's house, but I feel like I'm intruding on the happy reunion between her and Stephen, so after a couple days I move back to the hut that I had prepared for him. He's a pretty quiet baby most of the time, but when he sings, he wails. His eyes are opening now and glow a brilliant sea green. It's like two little gems decorating a tiny sun. His wet eyelashes curl up and frame those tiny eyes. My favorite thing is to sit by his crib and let his tiny fingers wrap around my finger while I hum Mags' lullaby to him. It works like a charm every time.

I'm not sure if it's the hormones or just my own mind tailspinning, but my delusions have increased a lot since Oriole's birth. My dreams are so vivid and horrible, and my imaginary companions are so real that I swear other people can see them too. But even if the room is melting and blood covers the floor, Oriole is immune to these nightmares. My mind doesn't allow him to be part of them. I've never watched my son die, nor has he been touched by any of those horrible corpses that follow me from room to room. He's almost a protection for them, like he's untouchable. When I have my son in my arms, all the hallucinations die away and it's just me, caring for him.

It didn't take long for word to spread about Oriole's birth. Finnick's mother met him the day we came home, and he brought her to tears with his rosy lips and chubby cheeks. I let her hold him as long as she desired, because I could see how thirsty she was for some sunlight in her life. You can't look at Oriole and not smile. I had his picture sent out to all my companions across Panem.

Johanna was ecstatic for me and sent back a doll stuffed with sweet smelling pine needles. I know what they are because of the trip I took to the pond with Finnick. I don't allow it in the crib yet, but I like the smell so it sits in a special spot next to the crib where Oriole can enjoy it too. Delly goes on and on about how wonderful and adorable he is. Plutarch sends me some rattle with a fancy handle and a gorgeous painted design. Peeta sends me a wonderful letter.

_Dear Annie, _

_You're son is incredible, I'm so happy for you. Katniss absolutely adores him, she cried when she saw his picture. We're making a book of memories and his picture is getting it's own page. I'm glad that you have found your family too, Katniss and I have gotten closer. I don't know where it's going, but for now I'm very happy. As far as your son goes, I'm sure Finnick would be so proud of you and I know you'll make a great mother. I'll write you more very soon, and please update us on Oriole as soon as you can! _

_Wishing you all the best, _

_Peeta._

_P.S. Katniss helped me with the flower._

Inside the letter was a pressed primrose, which I hung on the doorway. He also sent me a parcel of cookies that were delicious, even if they were a little stale by the time they came to me. Katniss sent her own note of congratulations too which came about a week later. I know that she's probably more insane than I am now, so I appreciate the effort it must have taken her to write it. She said something about the green of Finnick's eyes in Oriole and used such sincere words that I nearly teared up. All these letters found a special home on my shelf of memories I created.

And then the day came when I was sitting in the hut, watching as the sun began its dissent in to the sky.

"Annie, a letter came for you," calls the little village girl who does the mail now. Oriole is at Pearl's house so that I can take a break. I get up and receive the thick envelope from her.

"Thank you," I say, and give her my last cookie. She takes it and scampers away. It was really stale, anyway.

I retreat to the table and slit the mouth of the envelope open. First thing I see is the note, so I pull it out and set the rest of the package down. It reads;

_Annie! So happy to see that you're son is healthy and functioning. I've been very busy herein the former capitol, and I suspect I have a lot of work to do in the future. When I get the chance, however, I shall gather up some of our friends and come pay you and your son a visit. That is of course, if you don't mind our company! The memorials have all been completed, so thank you for your participation and beautiful speech. I brag about it to anyone that will listen._

_Wishing you all the best! You're such a brave girl._

_~Beetee_

_P.S. There's a gift for you inside the package. I hope you like it._

I put down the paper that Beetee had scrawled his message across and dug curiously into the package. My fingers clamped around something hard and strange, and then I froze in shock.

_It can't be._

I yank out my hand and find a string of white shells, tied in a bracelet loop. I cover my mouth with my other hand as tears spring to my eyes.

There's a little note attached to it that tells me it was found on a shelf in the Capitol's Training Center, where they kept all the personal belongings of the tributes that got left behind. I press the cool shells against my face and close my eyes. I remind myself how long this had been against his skin, and how much a part of him was in it. When my skin has warmed the shells, I loop them around my wrist and make sure the knot is tight. Because I'm never, ever taking them off. Finnick's voice is clear in my head as I feel the smooth surface of the shells rub against my skin.

_Something to hold on to._

The sun is in a full set and the ocean is glowing a bright tangerine color with pink wisps at the corner of the sky. The orange reminds me of Peeta at first because it's his favorite color, but then I think of the way that light used to look bouncing off of Finnick's face and hair. How it made his eyes glow brighter than any other time f the day. There's a swelling in my chest that craves that salty breeze and warm sun.

I throw on a wrap and walk out onto the beach and walk close enough the shoreline to have the waves lap at my feet. The breeze is picking up and very few people are around save for a few boats dotting the horizon. My hand reaches out and touches the shells on my wrist.

I walk until I'm close enough to some foliage to find a large hibiscus dangling from a branch. I pick it off the branch and then look out at the water. The waves are still tugging at the sand and the white shells still gleam like wet glass with the light. The bracelet is working some kind of magic and I can practically feel Finnick—or his memories at least—pressing against me. I remember what Finnick did the night that Mags died in the arena and am suddenly full of determination. I pick grass from around the tree and weave it into a quick basket. Then I grab some flint from someone's beach fire pit and return to my things.

_For coming home alive._

I kiss a small white shell and drop it into the basket.

_For trying to save me when I was in the arena._

I drop in another shell. I go through every important memory I can think of with Finnick, thank him for it, and drop the shell into the basket. I can't do too many, or the basket wont float at all when I send it out. But it takes long enough that the sun is completely set on the water by the time I'm finished. I think at some point I may have started crying, but they've dried up by now. My little basket is sprinkled with my memories, and it leave me feeling both drained and relieved. So then I pick up the hibiscus and press it to my lips.

_For loving me._

I place the flower at the corner of the basket and take it to the edge of the water. The sky has turned a dusty shade of lavender with pink at orange still lingering at the horizon line. I set the basket on the water and test to make sure it floats. Then I strike the flint and let the spark catch the grass edge. A wave comes in and I set the basket—my memories—on the water again and let the tide pull it out to sea.

_Wishing you were here again._

The flame licks the rest of it as it pulls further and further out on the water. I watch it glowing brighter and brighter until it disappears under the water.

_Deep breaths._

I close my eyes, suck in a deep breath, and then open them again. I start my walk back the beach, and am again reminded of the shells that hold to my wrist. Subtly and silently, I reach my hand out beside me and lace my fingers into a hand that's not there. In my mind, there is. And all the way home I hold Finnick's hand.

When I'm home, I eat dinner. I pick up Oriole from Pearl's house. I feed him and put him to bed. I lay a blanket on my mat to make it softer. I brush my hair before going to sleep myself.

And that's the night Finnick came back to me.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

_Where am I?_

Well okay, I'm at my beach with all the seashells. The sun is really warm and bright and covers everything with a golden shine. The water is azure blue and flopping over lazily with the waves. I scrunch up my toes and feel the sand crumbling beneath me.

_Why am I here?_

No body else is. When I look around, everything's empty as if no one ever lived here at all. The houses are gone and the plants are amazingly untouched. The sandy beach extends up and over the hill where my only my white plaster hut remains.

I'm waiting. Waiting for the next fuzzy, faceless monster to enter and rip apart the serenity. It's too calm, too peaceful. The only dreams I know are nightmares.

When nothing happens, I sit on the beach facing the ocean. There's a little speck on the horizon that I didn't notice before. It grows larger and larger until I can make out the image of a small fishing boat. There's someone sitting inside, but I can't make them out from this distance. I lose interest and go inside the hut on the top of the hill. It's just like the one I know but the furniture and floor were so clean and perfect, it's as if they've never been touched. I brush my fingers against the grain of the table. The wood feels so real, solid.

_Maybe this isn't a dream._

I go to the icebox but there's nothing inside. _No matter, _I think, _I'm not hungry. _

After a quick sweep, I head back out to the beach, where I find the boat has drifted almost completely to the shore. I freeze, because standing inside, is Finnick.

He's wearing a seafoam green tunic and white linen pants just like he used to when he live in Four. There's not a hair out of place, and he's so real I swear I see his pulse beating under his skin.

"Annie."

I take a step back. He moves towards me but I back away again. I'm just waiting for it to happen. The moment when he turns into some kind of beast or pile of gore and shatter this gossamer dream. Maybe he'll try to kill me this time, that'd be different.

We stand there for a while; me waiting for emanate destruction and him looking confused.

"Well?" I say impatiently. I'm getting annoyed with his blank expression.

"Well, what?"

"When are you going to explode or murder me or something? Let's get it over with."

His face twists up in confusion. "I'm not here to hurt you, Annie."

"Then why are you here?" I bite back, feeling tears in my eyes. I wish he didn't look so real. I wish he were faceless like in all the other dreams. It's just going to make it all that much worse.

"I came to see you," he says sincerely, now looking concerned. He takes another couple steps towards me but I cringe away. He stops and I can barely stand his new expression of hurt.

"This is cruel," I whimper. "This isn't fair at all."

"Annie, I don't understand, I thought you'd be happy to see me?"

I shake my head and dare to look at those sea green eyes. "Not like this. Any moment now you're going to leave, or die, or do something horrible. So just do it and get it over with."

He blinks and reaches out to hold me, but I shy away again. "Don't touch me. Please."

But this time he doesn't listen. He covers the space between us in a few steps and wraps his arms tightly around me, holding me fast even as I struggle to get away. I writhe and kick, shouting terrible things. But the longer he kept me there, the more aware I was of the familiar smell of salt on his skin. Of the warmth radiating in his chest and the muscles tightening in his arms. Of his face pressing against the top of my head. And his voice murmuring comfort that I finally started to hear.

"Sh, Annie, it's okay. I'm not going to hurt you."

I stop struggling and sink into his chest, wrapping his tunic in my fingers and letting the sobs take over.

_Okay then, have your moment. Indulge in his realness for a little while. Might as well._

I can hear the air passing in and out of his lungs. I can feel his heart against my cheek.

_Thud, thud, thud._

It feels so wonderful that eventually, when my crying has stopped, I just put my arms around him and hold him as well. I feel him start to pull away and tighten my grip.

"Please don't go," I urge him. He gently pulls away and looks straight into my eyes, a gesture that makes my knees weak. It's been so long since I've seen those eyes. I've missed them so much.

"I'm not going anywhere," he answers with sincerity. Then the next thing I know he's kissing me, or maybe I kissed him, it's all unclear. But it feels so warm, so familiar and loving that I can't stop it. And when our lips part I press my forehead to his and keep my eyes closed.

"What's happening?" I groan, knowing I'll regret how much I've indulged in Finnick later. Later when he's no longer there. "Why are you here?"

"This is our place. I'll come here every night, if you'll have me."

I pull back and look at him.

"Like a ghost?"

He smiles and shakes his head. "I'm pretty sure it's more scientific then that. But I'm not going to define what is and isn't a dream, nor even try to explain them. All you have to know is that I'm real because you made me real and this is where you can find me for the rest of your life. I'll grow old with you, if that's what you want."

"You're Finnick?" I repeat, putting my finger on his chest. He certainly _feels _like Finnick.

"The very same," he smiles, kissing my forehead. "And I love you so."

My hands tremble with adrenaline and shock, so I decide the put them at my sides. I stand there a long time studying the man in front of me. His eyes are the same green with that gentle, flickering shine. Same smile with the perfect dimples and pearly teeth. Same jaw. Messy hair. I couldn't find anything to shatter the idea that he was, in fact, Finnick.

"Did it hurt?" I ask finally, "When you died?"

He shakes his head. "It was too chaotic to feel a thing."

I don't know if that's the truth, or the words that my subconscious put into his mouth so that I'd hear what I want to hear, but it was spoken with such convincing inflection and clarity, I suddenly don't care.

"I love you," I say firmly. "And I've missed you. More than you can imagine."

He presses his lips hard against mine, and I'm swimming, floating, spinning.

I'm looking at the ceiling of my plaster hut. Oriole is crying loudly from his crib, which I'm guessing pulled me from my sleep.

I'm floored by what just happened and can't seem to get up right away.

_Finnick. I saw Finnick._

I don't even feel emptiness or longing when I realize I'm alone with Oriole. I'm just excited and happy. Like the gaping hole in my chest was finally being mended.

"Sh, baby, don't cry," I coo, pulling Oriole into my arms. "Don't cry," I repeat, even as tears run down my own cheek. But they're happy tears, so I don't hold them back. "It's going to be okay. Everything's alright. Hush."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

I was nervous to go to sleep the next night. What if he wasn't there? What if that was only a once in a lifetime dream and all the rest would just be filled with nothing? Darkness dense enough to kiss your skin. I dressed in a good nightgown even though I don't think I go into the dream wearing what I wear to bed. And I looked at myself in the mirror. Long, wavy dark hair. Pale freckles. Green eyes. Too skinny and pale, but alive. I could smile, but not if Finnick didn't return to me that night. But sure enough, when the world disappears, there he is on his little boat.

"Finnick!" I call out. He stumbles in his boat and drops the paddle in the water. He jumps in to go and get in and then climbs back in before the ways carried his vessel away.

"Look what you made me do," he says when he's close enough to hear.

"It's not like you can't swim," I joke with a sly grin. His messy bronze hair sticks to his forehead with the salt water.

"I wasn't sure if you'd make it," I admit as he hops out of the boat and wades through the banking waves. He's focused on the tumbling water and sand until he's a few inches away, when his head snaps up and kisses me full on the mouth. It's so incredibly real and familiar that I lose myself and pull him down to the sand. I can feel every grain of it brushing the skin on my back, and as we move it seems to melt to give way for us.

"You're so beautiful," I laugh when I finally pause long enough to look at him fully. So bronzed and muscular yet not intimidating. He smiles and shakes his head. I feel his lips and teeth on my neck and shiver with how incredible it feels. His body is astoundingly solid and warm.

"I missed this," he sighs, moving from my neck to my jaw and then back to my lips. Those are the last words spoken for a while as we wrap ourselves into one another while the sun sets over the ocean. When it's over, Finnick is leaned against a tree with his arms wrapped around me, and I lean up against him. It's been so quiet and peaceful for so long, it sounds bizarre when I start laughing.

"What?" Finnick asks.

"I just can't believe this is happening!" I laugh harder. "Days ago I was just struggling to accept that you were gone forever. And now here I am, cuddling with you as if you never left! It's just…surreal."

I don't know at what point my laughing turns to tears, but suddenly I can't stop them. I feel so ridiculous, but there's nothing I can do.

"Hey," Finnick sounds concerned. He turns me around so we're face to face and wipes the tear off my cheek.

"You were gone," I whimper, "It was so lonely."

He's face looks miserable and he pulls me into a hug. "I know Annie, I'm so sorry. Leaving you was one of the hardest things I've ever done. I didn't have a choice; I had to go to the Capitol. I had to stay behind. But I'm here now. I'll be here for you every night. I hope that's enough."

I take in a deep breath and calm myself down. "Any little bit is enough. I'll take anything I can get."

We look at each other and he taps my nose with his finger affectionately. "You're not alone Annie. You have Pearl and Echo. Stephen…Kai and Kiandra. My mother..."

"And our son." Realization strikes me and I can't believe I haven't said anything before. "Finnick, we have a son."

He grins widely, "Tell me about him."

I continue to tell Finnick everything I know about Oriole. From his tiny toes to his big green googly eyes. His messy wisps of bronze hair. How his presence lit up my life that I don't think I could stand without him.

"I wish you could meet him," I say eventually. I'm facing out at the water again with my head leaned against Finnick's chest. "But I never dream about Oriole. It's like my mind protects him from it."

Finnick nods, though his eyes are fixed on some distant point out in the ocean. "He can't come where we are anyway," he says. "This is a place only for us. In the corners of your mind, opened by penetrating longing."

I chew my bottom lip and comprehend that for a moment. Then I smile.

"Well you're watching over him, anyway."


	50. Chapter 49 (Final)

READ THIS NOTE FIRST!

_Everyone, it's been such a pleasure writing for you. I've never been so well received by a group of readers than by all of you, and I can't express how much all your constructive advice, compliments, and enthusiasm means. This project accomplished exactly what I meant to do, which is to improve my writing while talking about a story I love. If any of you want to write something similar, listen to Seabird and the Fray. They're music inspired a lot of the emotion in this novel. Also, the alternative ending will be posted as a different story on my account, in about a week. Thank you all for overcoming my horrible typos and grammatical errors and just enjoying the story. I appreciate your attention, and really can't thank you enough. It's been a truly inspirational experience. _

_God bless, and of course, happy reading._

_ ~Rose_

**49**

**Vivid Happiness**

"He's getting big so fast," I sigh, drawing a poorly proportioned sun in the sand. "Soon he's going to be going to school and learning to fish on the boats…"

"Is he a natural?" Fin asks with a warm tone in his voice.

"Of course he is. Though he's useless with a trident. Takes after me I guess."

Fin laughs and nuzzles his lips into my neck. "Tell me more."

"Well, Pearl loves him. Kai and Kiandra have shown him the ropes about how to avoid her temper, and so far he's mastered the art more than I have. He's such a little charmer, he can get her to make him a tart with a look. I've never seen her so melted."

"He gets Pearl to…make him a tart?"

"A few times, yep. She's better than Echo though, she just gives him whatever he wants all the time. She's been too caught up with this missionary of sorts from District Eleven to even notice. He runs the orphanage branch of the Everdeen Hospital."

"Sounds like a nice guy."

"I'm sure he is," I breathe, reveling in the salty air. "But I think I got the better end of the deal."

He kisses my ear and I nuzzle against him. "I never get tired of this."

I smile and tap his nose. "And you think I don't? This is my relaxing time. I spend all day looking after Oriole and the rest of my family. I weave nets and help the hospital make those herbal mixtures. And I've got to plan, because as soon as he's old enough, Oriole and I are going to build houses in the outerlying districts. Peeta and Katniss had a daughter, so I'd love to go and see them too. Oh, and did I mention that Johanna and Gale have been in contact? It's sort of private, don't tell anybody."

"Who am I going to—"

I hold my finger up over his lips. "Shush, I'm not finished. So I plan all this. And it's very beautiful and busy. But at the end of the day, I know I'll fall asleep and wake up with you here. I couldn't have asked for a better arrangement, really."

Finnick laughs and pushes me over. "Oh, you're just using me for my body."

I giggle and find myself on my back in the sand, looking sideways at Finnick's green eyes. "No, but really." I reach out and rest my hand against his arm. "I used to wake up with my arms stretched out for you. I don't do that anymore."

He smiles his charming grin and kisses my forehead slowly. "That's because I'm holding you here," he murmurs, kissing my head again, "And here…" he moves down to kiss the corner of my jaw. "And…here…" he moves down so that he's kissing over my heart, which is now pounding heavily in my chest. "And…"

I suddenly pull him up and press my lips hard against his, feeling our teeth grind into our skin. Our bodies swell as we suck in the sweet air, never losing contact with each other. We're the ocean; tumbling, turning, twisting and sinking. I reach out and clasp his hand, our fingers digging into the sand. The sun is beginning to set on our ocean and the air begins to cool.

"Oriole will be awake soon," I say, finally lifting myself to my feet and brushing off the sand. I hold out my hand and help Fin up, who smiles and stretches with his arms up to the sky and his mouth open with a long satisfied groan. I've seen his son do the same thing time and time again. I look down out our clasped hands and remember the moment I had the other day. A few years ago, I remember walking on the beach alone and reaching out, pretending to hold Finnick's hand. It was before the dreams I had with him and I felt so lonely. But just the other day I was tucking Oriole in to bed and he said, "The lady at the market told me my dad was a hero, just like you said. Does everybody know him?"

I smiled and kissed his forehead. "He was a very popular hero back during the war. I'll explain more when you're older. Just know he was very brave and he loves you very much."

Oriole's eyes were drooping and he didn't notice me reach beside me and lace my fingers through an invisible hand resting on his footboard. It didn't feel lonely; it really felt like Finnick was there.

I look up from our hands and meet Finnick's eyes. "It's time for me to go," I whisper to him, hearing the voice of Oriole echoing off in the distance. He sighs and pulls me into a tight embrace.

"I love how you just always smell like the ocean," he says into my neck, "I think that's one of the things I missed most. And your freckles."

He kisses the spot between my eyes. "Oriole's starting to get them too," I tell him, "And you're messy mop of hair. Thanks a lot for that, by the way."

He smiles and kisses my lightly. I smile in spite of myself. "I'll see you tomorrow night, then?"

"Are you sure you don't want to stay just a little bit longer?" he sighs, looking at me. "Stay for the sun set, at least."

I groan and nod, "Alright, you've persuaded me. But I'd like my dress back. Even dream sand gets uncomfortable when the breeze picks up."

Finnick punches the air with victory and regretfully goes over and finds our clothes on the beach and holds out my dress. As I'm about to take it, he seems to think twice and then thrusts his tunic at me instead. I give him a look but he just smiles smugly and dumps the tunic into my arms. I shake my head and pull it on. It's long enough to cover, anyway. And it smelled like him. He pulls on his sandals and linen pants then invites me to sit with him on the beach as the sun turns a sorbet orange color. His fingers play absentmindedly with the white shell bracelet that's tied us together all these years.

It's incredible. Ever since my games, my minds been an unpredictable tide. Most people have a kind of barrier, like a reef, that keeps them from seeing all the horrors that the mind has to offer. But mine was broken, shattered entirely, and for the longest time I had no control over what came in to haunt me. I lived in fear of monsters and ghosts and my own memories. But it seems, finally, this open passageway has allowed me to enjoy something like I never have before. Finnick can sail in on his little fishing boat freely, since there's no reef to stop him. And as he enters, all the horrors and monsters stay at bay and leave me alone. Oriole fills my day with light, and in the darkness, I have Finnick to come and guard me. Maybe this is my reward for all the misery my loved ones and me had to go through. I'm not sure. I'm not even sure I ever deserved such happiness as this, but I'm not going to waste it. No, not one drop.

"I can't believe how beautiful it is here," Finnick says softly as the sun begins to dip its toes into the ocean.

"That's the thing about being crazy," I say with a smile, "You have the most _vivid_ dreams."

o-o-o-o-o

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

o-o-o-o-o

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

o-o-o-o-o

**Epilogue**

_Thirty-five years later._

My body feels very heavy, like there's a dense weight pressing me into the bed. It's not painful…just…lethargic. I'd heard what they all said, that it was a miracle I made it this far. I'd been exposed to so much in the capitol, most people with that much damage didn't last past their thirties. Especially the war veterans, we'd just been exposed to far too much radiation and chemicals and whatever else used to infect the former capitol. My friends are doing well, but of course Lillian makes sure they keep healthy. She tried with me, but honestly I was never built to last very long, anyway.

I can feel the warmth of Oriole's strong hand holding mine. I hear him singing softly too. He's always had the sweetest sounding voice.

"_Out on the sea my love_

_There's a gray ship of shining glass_

_A white dove is sitting, singing_

_On the crystal mass…"_

And then I'm on the beach. _My _beach. I look down and see the green velvet dress I wore on my wedding day. My hands move to feel it and I see all signs of age have washed away, and the paleness of my illness is gone. The shells on my wrist are blazingly white in contrast to my healthy skin. My hair is thick and dark, waving effortlessly in the salty breeze. I look up and see Finnick approaching the shore in the suit that he borrowed from Peeta for our wedding. It looks so out of place in the setting. His feet are bare, as are mine, when he steps out of his fishing boat and onto the sand.

"I've come to collect you," he says. I look at him and start to feel the weight of my body and the sheer weight of all the years start to lift.

"_And out on the sea my love_

_The ship is sailing fast_

_Back home to the shore_

_Home my love at last."_

"Is that Oriole's voice singing? It's lovely," Finnick says calmly. My eyes move slowly between him and the boat. I don't think I can speak yet, or really move. I suck in a breath and am back in the bed, with the smell of the candle burning near by wafting in the air and the dampness of my son's hand. We've already said our good-byes, Oriole and I. He knows how much I love him. Now he's here merely to hail me as my life sets sail. It's beautiful. I give his hand a gentle squeeze, to say once more I love him, once more good-bye. And to thank him.

"_But 'til that day_

_The dove it comes it sails alone_

_Remembering the shore and land_

_How the breaking waves shone."_

"You look beautiful," Finnick says. I'm back at the beach, and more of the heaviness is gone. I find I can turn my head. And when I part my lips, I can speak.

"It's time, then?"

He smiles and takes my hand, kissing me on the forehead. "It is."

"_It comes to sing its song_

_To tell us of its tale,"_

"And where are we going?" I ask. But I'm not afraid. I'm never afraid with Finnick there. The weight of the world is gone, and I feel nothing but an eerie peacefulness. Resolution almost, that I've lived a good life. That I'm okay. That it's time to move on. That there's no more time, from this point forward.

"We're going to sail 'til we see the shore," Finnick answers warmly. I smile and feel the same warmth spread through every inch of me.

"_The ship of glass is sailing fast_

_The wind is in its sail."_

"Together."

He helps me step into the boat and then effortlessly pushes off the beach, getting in himself with barely any splash. The boat moves with the pull and tug of the waves and it begins to leave the shore to my seashell beach behind. The further it goes, the less I feel Oriole's warmth in my hand. But the more I feel loved, I feel whole. I feel the warmth of Finnick's essence beside me as we stand to salute the shore. I see the white specks of shells shrinking and shrinking until they're but little white diamonds on the sand. Finnick's hand slips into mine.

"_So go to sleep and do not fear_

_For it glides on silver lining."_

Oriole's voice is a beautiful echo over the water. Finnick's hand squeezes mine. It gives me the courage to turn and face the horizon, where the sun magnificent, beckoning us out to find the shore. Illuminating our forms until Finnick and I and draped in gold. We are made of light. We are warm. We are together. We are magnificent.

"_The dove is coming for the shore_

_The ship it will be shining."_

**The End. **


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